


Breaking Chains

by Maracuya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Casterly Rock, Essos, F/M, Lannisport, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Sex Education
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 23,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/pseuds/Maracuya
Summary: The outset: At the end of winter, Tywin Lannister has travelled to Essos. In this AU, things are quite different from canon, so I don't want to reveal too much - but be prepared for the unprepared.





	1. Surprise!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I've got no intentions to make any profit from this. All the credits go to GRRM. I'm just causing the plot bunnies to multiply...
> 
> My Magister Illyrio is based on the book description.

_"This domicile is acceptable, even if nothing could ever compare to the Rock,"_ Tywin thought as he moved into the guest room he had been allocated in the domicile of Magister Illyrio Mopatis in Pentos.

The problem was that now, at the end of winter, the Rock didn't have enough provisions anymore. Winter had been long and dire, and Tywin was glad that he - in contrast to others - had the coin to pay for Pentoshi food. So he had taken the first ship after the deadly winter storms to cross the sea and had headed for Essos. It had been a dangerous passage and twice, the ship would have nearly sunk. Yet, Tywin had managed to survive, as always. The next task was to succeed in the negotiations.

 _"Mopatis will be difficult to handle,"_ Tywin thought. He knew the magister to be aquainted with Lord Varys in King's Landing, so the Lord of Lannister knew he'd meet a... worthy adversary.

 

Tywin refreshed himself and appreciated the opulence of the building. Thankfully, Mopatis had known how to receive the head of House Lannister, and the welcome and accomodation didn't lack the grandeur they deserved. Or rather the grandeur Tywin deserved.

Soon afterwards, he and the magister met for a meal not even fat late King Robert could have wolfed down. However, the amount of food seemed just to be enough for the obese Pentoshi at Tywin's side. Sadly, the man didn't smell good. The heavy perfume he used only made things worse - and the way he stroked his long beard reminded Tywin of upstart Petyr Baelish back in Westeros. Bleh.

Mopatis talked about this and that, his fleshy teats quivering like jelly under the fabric whenever he laughed. Making conversation wasn't Tywin's forte, however, so he soon addressed the topic that had driven him to Pentos. It became a long night, chock full with intense debates about the different aspects of the deal Tywin wished to make. He was adamant about many points since he didn't want to get fleeced.

 

At some point, Illyrio Mopatis broke off their discussion, smiled, and said, "It's getting late, and we should both relax and get some sleep."

He rang a bell, and a young, fair-haired woman with blue eyes entered, hips swinging. She approached the magister, and the man grinned.

"Relaxation first, Lord Lannister."

Tywin didn't want to test his adversary's preferences and pointed out, "I don't share women."

Illyrio's pig's eyes glittered with amusement, and he rang his bell a second time.

"I would have been surprised had it been any different. As it is, I know you're a man of refined tastes. For that reason, I've got a sweet virgin for you. Got her from Astapor, though she's clearly of different origin. Maybe even from Westeros, even if she speaks Valyrian without an accent."

 

Tywin had a hard time to keep his face a blank mask. He knew that officially, there were no slaves in Pentos, but in reality, servants were so dependant on their masters that there was no real difference. He looked at the woman who was fluttering around the obese magister and felt the urgent need to retire. Oh, Tywin had been without a woman for ages, but this scene didn't have the potential to heat up his blood.

"Good night, magister," he said after rising from his seat and forced himself to be polite enough to incline his head.

"Good night, Lord Lannister," Mopatis answered, and Tywin strode out of the room.

 

When he arrived at his own temporary chamber and entered, there were suddenly two other people behind him. For a split second, Tywin thought them to be no more than average servants, but then, he froze midstride on his way to the bed.

"My lord?" a masculine voice asked.

Tywin slowly turned around. His eyes widened. Bulged.

In front of him were a tall muscular man, who emanated the air of a guard, and a... young woman. A young woman clad in a transparent mockery of a shift.

"What's the meaning of this?" Tywin hissed.

The guard tensed and didn't dare to look him in the eyes.

"Magister Mopatis is sending you this young woman as a... a boon. He knows you must be exhausted after your voyage and sends you this woman to wait on your every need so you can relax and refresh yourself."

 

Now the mere idea of officially sending Tywin Lannister a slave whore was already a ridiculous concept - he wasn't his dwarf son after all. However, the truly shocking point was the woman herself. Never before had Tywin been so close to allow his jaw to drop. It was as if he was catapulted back in time - about seventeen to twenty years in time, to be exact. He had never seen this woman before, but she looked the very image of...

... Lady Catelyn Stark.

The same auburn hair, the same fair skin and lithe body, the typical Tully blue eyes, even if they were cast down - only the posture wasn't the one of a cold, arrogant noble lady, but the one of a servant.

Tywin blinked. He was seeing things, wasn't he?

_"I must be wrong. I haven't seen Lady Stark since before the winter."_

His gaze lingered on the coral-coloured nipples and the reddish triangle one could see through the thin cobweb she was wearing.

 

The next moment, the servant woman looked up, cheeks crimson, eyes huge... and then, she dashed towards him.

On instinct, Tywin tried to grab the sword at his belt, but he had had to put it off for the time being since weapons wouldn't have helped his negotiations with Mopatis.

As it was... One heartbeat, and the woman wrapped her arms firmly around his middle, pressed herself flush against him so he could feel her teats against his chest through his shirt, and whispered, "Please, my lord, PLEASE...let me be at your service!"


	2. Back story

Tywin had abducted his arms and goggled down at the fiery crown of the woman's head. It was right at his chin, because this female was quite tall. Well, she was obviously unusual in many ways. Tywin couldn't have been more shocked had Joanna risen from the grave and had embraced him. Women simply didn't try to get close to the Lion of Lannister, even less try to touch him. And maids least of all. The very concept of anyone begging to get laid by Tywin Lannister was as absurd as absurd could be.

 

Yet, here this slave was, clinging to him as if for dear life, and desperate to get fucked.

The male servant spoke to him, "If you don't want her, my lord, I'll lead her away, of course."

These words caused the slave to hug Tywin even more fiercely, as if she meant to break his ribs.

 

Of course, Tywin knew that this kind of behaviour had nothing to do with a sexual appetite a young woman would direct at an ageing man like him. No.

 _"How bad must the alternative to spending a night with someone like me be?"_ Tywin thought.

It dawned on him how very much afraid of Mopatis this slave had to be. Was she fearing severe punishment? Or would she have to sleep with the obese Pentoshi? Both? Or did she know the Lannister name and wanted to use him to get back to Westeros? Or did she just want to somehow profit from a rich, foreign nobleman?

 

The question remained if this woman was Catelyn Stark's daughter. So far, she had spoken in Valyrian to him.

So Tywin asked her in the Westerosi tongue, "Do you really want to stay for the night?"

The slave's head shot upwards, and the gaze he earned was intense. Unsettling, because hardly anyone ever dared to look him in the eyes... but there was no understanding in her look. So what did her reaction mean?

 

Tywin tried to remember the old case of Sansa Stark's disappearance. It had all happened some fifteen years before when Lord Eddard's daughter had still been a wee girl. Lord Stark had uncovered that one of his Northern lords, Ser Jorah Mormont, had dabbled in slavetrade and had tried to apprehend and to execute the knight. Ser Jorah, however, had disappeared and had fled to Essos. To make things worse, he had abducted Sansa Stark, probably to take revenge. Of course, Lord Stark had Essos combed for his eldest daughter, but there had never been a trace of her. By now, most people believed her to be dead - even more so since there had been rumours of Ser Jorah in Essos, but nobody had ever seen him with a child at his side.

Tywin thought of how the whole affair had caused the Stark parents to age before their time - they allegedly both looked older than Tywin these days. They also lead a reclusive life in Winterfell nobody could perturb, not even late King Robert, an old Stark friend. The monarch had travelled to the North before the winter to find himself a Hand and a match for his son Joffrey. However, nothing had come of it. Lord Eddard hadn't been willing to leave the North, and had just arranged a betrothal between his daughter Arya and a Northman weeks before. To make things more complicated, Cersei had made a big spectacle of not allowing a match between Myrcella and Robb or Bran Stark. Her tantrum had had the worst impact, and the friendship between Lord Stark and his king had shattered. Well, at least Lord Stark had fought the wights during the winter as best he had been able to - and the West had been glad to get rid of the criminal extra mouths during the long, cold season, and had sent enough man fodder to the Wall. That way, the relationship between the Starks and the Lannisters had at least not deteriorated any further.

All in all, Tywin hadn't been sad about the development. Given the circumstances, Tyrion had become Robert's Hand - until Joffrey had shot at his dwarf uncle with his crossbow after the ascension to the throne. Had someone else not murdered Joffrey soon afterwards, Tywin would have had to find a similar solution for his renegade grandson. It didn't do to kill a Lannister, even if it was the most wretched and despicable gnome of the family.

 

Tywin's thoughts snapped back to the present and to the situation he was in. It was still unclear if this woman who was close to choking him was Sansa Stark or not. Perhaps she had been too young when the abduction had occurred, and she didn't remember her past.

Given the situation, Tywin opted for a closer inspection of the affair. Yet, he shrugged listlessly at the masculine servant so as to make clear that Magister Illyrio's gift wasn't an impressive one.

"Whatever. Leave her here for the time being. I may or may not send her back later. You may convey the magister my thanks in case it spares you a whipping."

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the guard, and the man scuttled away.

 

Next, Tywin looked at the young woman, who was still gazing at him with her oh so blue eyes.

"Oh Gods, thank you, thank you thank you, my lord!" she breathed with a trembling voice...

... and then, she wrapped her arms around his neck, rose onto her toes, and kissed him wildly on his mouth. At once, he went even more rigid than he already was. Within moments, Tywin ran out of air.


	3. Unsettled

Tywin tore away from the slave and glared down at her. He couldn't help panting, and his mind was uncharacteristically fuzzy. He hadn't shared a kiss with anyone for decades, and it was as if a flood was surging behind a dam inside of him. For a heartbeat or two, Tywin felt acute annoyment. Yet, what would have manifested as white-hot anger in any other situation evaporated once he looked at the young woman in front of him.

Her blue eyes were still huge, and she was blinking rapidly. She knitted her brows as if she realised only now what she had done.

 _"But she doesn't look disgusted,"_ Tywin thought. _"How's that even possible?"_

 

Aloud, he asked roughly in the Common Tongue, "What's your name?"

 

The woman blinked again, then shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said in Valyrian.

Tywin sighed inwardly and repeated his question in the other language.

The slave cast down her eyes and blushed.

"My name is Amaera*, my lord."

 

That wasn't the answer Tywin had wanted to hear, so he resolved to find out some more.

"Has it always been your name, or did you have to change it at some point? What's your earliest memory?"

Amaera shook her head again.

"What do you mean? My name is Amaera. And my... my earliest memory?" Her blush deepened. "Why... it was when the son of my master in Astapor struck me black and blue. I think I had snuck a little lemon cake from the kitchen."

Tywin furrowed his brow. Under these circumstances, there was no hard and fast proof that this Amaera and missing Sansa Stark were one and the same person.

 

"How come you're here then, not in Astapor?" he inquired further.

Amaera bit her lip.

"It was four years ago. Mhysa Daenaerys arrived with her dragons and freed the slaves in Astapor. My master, his son and his brother died. But Mhysa Daenaerys left the city again, and slavery returned soon. It was the widow of my former master who sold me to one of Magister Illyrio's men. I think it earned her a substancial sum."

 

Tywin nodded in understanding. Yes, Daenaerys Targaryen had always been good for a surprise appearance. She and her dragons had popped up in Westeros two years before and had claimed the throne. She had also claimed Jaime's sword hand and had sent him to the Wall - before she had travelled to the Wall herself. Daenaerys and her dragons had been able to fight back the undead menace, together with Eddard Stark. They had been successful, eventually, but the fights had been fatal for the queen and her beasts... and for Jaime, too.

After that, Tywin had made sure Tommen returned to the throne. It had been possible, because the fights against the wights as well as the burden of the long winter had thinned out the lines of those noblemen who could have opposed him. Still, it hadn't been an easy task - but challenges were what Tywin was breathing for.

 

Speaking of "challenge". This Amaera in front of him didn't seem to be a challenge with regard to her lineage - but if he could get nothing else, he could probably at least claim her maidenhood. Normally, Tywin wasn't interested in such things and of late, he hadn't even thought of whether he was still... virile. When his cock suddenly gave an interested twitch, he assumed he had an answer. Now the question was if Amaera was still as avid to get deflowered.

 

Slowly, he approached the young woman and lifted her chin. She then looked him in the eyes, and a hot wave licked up Tywin's spine. Tywin glanced at her rosy lips, remembered her taste, and on instinct, he stooped over her and put his mouth on hers...

... and then, the dam inside of him broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ meaning: "princess" or "queen"


	4. Feast

Tywin hadn't kissed anyone for decades. Suddenly, he couldn't stop himself. Had to go on. Like a starving man. A man needing to catch up with years and years of kissing.

His mind was blank. He was so far beyond everything that he didn't even feel angry about losing control.

With his mouth he claimed Amaera's as if he wanted to eat her up. For a moment, the woman in his arms went stiff - but then responded to him. Returned the kiss. Oh, she stiffened again, when his tongue darted into her mouth and showed her how he intended to fuck her. Hard and fast. Wild and unrestrained.

 

Any other maid would have wanted to escape such an onslaught - but not the young woman in Tywin's arms. She did wince when he tore the thin fabric that barely covered her, and she gasped when he grasped her breasts, which were enticingly full. And during all these actions, he continued to devour her with his mouth.

Tywin only let go of her lips to feast on her nipples.

It caused Amaera to whimper - and to arch her back to get even closer to him. Gods, her taste and scent were divine, and had Tywin not already lost control, he'd have done so then and there. He licked and suckled and even bit the velvety feminine skin with abandon. It earned him a sound somewhere between a squeak and a moan, and he appreciated Amaera's strong, lustful instincts. It was just what he needed.

 

Tywin returned to her lips and directed her to the bed at the same time. Without ever taking his mouth off her delicious body, he fumbled on the buttons of his trousers, pushed them down, and kicked them away. By then, his cock was hard and twitching with impatience and anticipation.

First, however, he probed the woman with his fingers. There was a slick wetness, but... Tywin paused for the briefest moment.

_"No barrier? She's no maid?"_

Aloud, he said, "Mopatis told me you were a virgin. Looks like he's been wrong."

 

Amaera blinked, her lips swollen from the kissing, her body flushed.

"I've never been with a man," she managed to breathe, and her cheeks turned even redder. "His mistress servant told me to touch myself, how it would help me prepare myself for a man, and she didn't tell me... I didn't know..."

Tywin palmed his face. This story was so incredibly stupid... it had to be true. Tywin also knew how women would cook up schemes to stop potential rivals. It also explained why Mopatis wasn't interested in deflowering Amaera herself - she was considered "flawed lifestock".

Under different circumstances, Tywin would have reached the same conclusion. As things were, however...

 

"Show me how well-prepared you are then," he grunted.

Without further ado, he placed the young woman onto the mattress, spread her thighs, and positioned himself between them.

They looked at each other when Tywin pushed into Amaera, and he watched her blue eyes widen once again. Her lips formed a little "o" - and Tywin knew he would feast on this woman now as if it were his last meal.

Hungrily, he claimed her mouth again, and while he supported himself with his left arm, his right hand grasped her breast again. Amaera whimpered... and arched into him.

 

That was the sign Tywin had been waiting for. With all the hunger a starving lion could muster, he started to pound into the woman under him. Never in his long life had he been so wild. Greedily, he sucked Amaera's whimpers and moans into his mouth and gave her his moans in return.

Suddenly, Amaera squealed and bucked, and her inner walls clenched around his cock in wild spasms. Her orgasm took Tywin by surprise as he wasn't quite there himself yet. However, her peak and her quivers that seemed to suck his shaft even deeper into her core did a lot to climax himself. Tywin pumped and pumped into the writhing body underneath him, sweat dripping down on the woman, his own muscles tautened...

... and finally, he roared out his relief.

For a moment, he saw white. Next, he flopped down unceremoniously next to the soft feminine body that had given him such... enjoyment. Yes, enjoyment. There was no other word for it, even if Tywin barely knew it from first-hand experience.

 

The first thing he could think when his mind came back to life was, _"I'll take her with me to Westeros. I'll take her home."_


	5. The mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently came across the history of the development of mirrors, of how mirrors weren't nearly as good in the Middle Ages and of how the Venetian glass experts of the Early Modern Age finally reached a breakthrough (see https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mirror for Referenzen). It was then that I knew I had to adapt history to this fic...

The next morning, Tywin found Amaera curled up against him. She kept on sleeping when he rose. Tywin grabbed his clothes, loath to call a servant in this situation.

When he moved about the room, he noticed a mirror that was about a man's height and twice as broad - in other words: a giant of a mirror. Tywin stepped in front of it... and nearly got a shock. The reflection was so much sharper, the colours so much more natural than anything he'd seen about the polished metal mirrors that were used in Westeros! Nor were there any contortions. Never before had Tywin seen such a clear image of himself.

Fascinated, he explored the object and decided he had to have such a luxurious item as well.

The next moment, his eyes glided from the reflection of himself to the sleeping form on the bed... and a few ideas of how he could combine both points of interest later presented themselves. Hm... Yes. Tywin nodded, a smug air about himself.

For now, however, he had to put these delicious plans aside. He had to meet and to confer with Mopatis. Tywin sighed.

A little later, the two men met for breakfast. Mopatis had already breadcrumbs in his beard, and Tywin was reminded of how - and why - Amaera had thrown herself at a noble guest, rather than at her master.

Mopatis grinned.

"Lord Lannister! Do take a seat. Has my little gift for the night been delectable?"

Tywin shrugged noncommittally, so Mopatis went on, "I can send you another woman. Nobody shall call me a bad host."

Tywin sat down and answered, "She'll do. I'm here for negotiations about food. That's where my focus is."

The old trade rule was not to show too much interest too soon. So it was no wonder he only did bring up one point of interest after five hours of intense discussions about provisions.

"By the way, the mirror in my chamber is of a fine quality. Where did you purchase it?"

Mopatis clicked his tongue and smiled.

"I knew you'd appreciate it. Now, I must say I didn't buy the mirror myself. I got it from a Braavosi merchant in exchange for a wood lading. Wood is particularly scarce in Braavos, you see. All this water... But apart from their fighting experts, they do have some real glass artist as well."

Tywin nodded in understanding; he had already known as much. And it was becoming even clearer now just how valuable and fragile the object in question was. It would be perfect to reflect not only people, but also Lannister splendour.

For the time being, however, Tywin dropped the topic. He'd come back to it later. And he'd not turn to Amaera until shortly before the very end of their talks. Instead, Tywin picked up the aspect of grain, turnips, and poppyseed again. To his own surprise, he actually had to force himself to muster the necessary concentration. However, he wouldn't have been Tywin Lannister, had he not finally managed to defend the staunch position of his.


	6. Lustful explorations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extensive smut ahead.

No sooner did Tywin open the door to his quarters than an auburn-haired woman threw herself against his chest and kissed him square on the mouth. If there was anything he wasn't used to, it was such a happy, carefree greeting. It did weird things to him.

Tywin noticed Amaera was wearing one of his Lannister red shirts, and he remembered how he had torn her only shift on the previous day. Thus, he couldn't fault her for donning one of his pieces. It reached to the middle of her thighs, and he strongly suspected that there was nothing underneath. He became hard at once.

"What a welcome," he said. "Did you have anything to eat today?"

Amaera blushed.

"I took some fruit from the fruit basket over there. And a bit from the wine flask. I hope you don't mind..."

"Nothing else? That's not sufficient for a grown person," Tywin commented, opened the door and ordered two platters of food, more drink, and a new fruit basket.

"Oh, that's so kind of you!" Sansa purred and rubbed her face against his chest.

Tywin blinked. Him? KIND? The poor young woman was obviously mad, but damn him if he'd object.

The food arrived in no time, and busy munching ensued. Amaera tackled her bread with the same enthusiasm she tackled Tywin - but the way she enjoyed her lemon cake at the end caused Tywin to want to have HER for dessert. Interestingly enough, she didn't ask him about any details of the day, which meant she wasn't even trying to spy on him. Instead, she chattered about Essosi food. Tywin let her talk - unlike others, her ramblings didn't unnerve him. He even quite liked to listen to her beautiful voice. Though he knew he'd like it even more once he'd have her moaning in sheer lust. Ahhh, but this was only a matter of time.

 

When they had finished their dinner, he asked, "Ready for a continuation of what we did last night?"

Amaera flushed pink, averted her eyes and bit her lips, but her nod was avid. GOOD.

Now, it was Tywin's time to purr in contentment.

"Mmmh, all right. And I daresay you'll learn a lot more tonight. We'll start with putting off our clothes."

 

Amaera was still a bit hesitant, but Tywin could see it was shyness and lack of experience that slowed her down - not disgust. This way, it was even enticing. He himself shed his clothes quickly, realising she was ogling him from the corners of her eyes. So he made sure she had a good view of his rigid shaft. And he knew that this would only be the beginning of a series of delicious views...

 

He walked over to the mirror and positioned a footstool in front of it. At the same tame, he made sure that the reflection also covered a desk further in the background. Yes, yes, the stage was prepared.

"Amaera, come over here," he told the young servant. "I want you to see yourself. A young woman should know and appreciate her own body and her own lust so it'll be easier for her to do the same for someone else."

Obediently, Amaera walked up to him, and it was beautiful to behold how she was blushing EVERYWHERE while doing so. Tywin turned her towards the mirror, right next to the footstool, and positioned himself behind her.

He reached around her body and cupped her breasts. She gasped.

"Look at yourself!" he told her. "Look at your lustful reactions. There's nothing more beautiful than an aroused person."

He circled her nipples with the pad of his thumb and nibbled on the nape of her neck. Moreover, he allowed his cock to nuzzle her buttocks. One day, he'd take her there, too, but for now, she still had to learn the basics - and he meant to teach her thoroughly, even if he was usually an impatient man.

Amaera gasped again.

Tywin mumured into her ear, "See how your nipples are hardening with excitement?"

"Oh my! Gods!" Amaera breathed, and Tywin was delighted. Of course, his contentment also showed in the mirror. He didn't mind.

 

For a while, he fondled her there some more.

Then, he told her, "Now place your foot on this stool. You shall see your womanhood as well."

Amaera's eyes widened, and she even turned her head to look at him directly.

"Go on," Tywin pointed out. "There's nothing bad about knowing yourself. Take this knowledge from a man who has been able to see his own sex since the very beginning. Women are more secretive, but secrets are there to be uncovered."

Hesitating, Amaera placed a foot onto the stool. With his hands, Tywin guided her thighs apart so she could see herself properly. By then, her pink blush had turned into a rich crimson. Sweeeet.

Tywin nudged her buttocks from behind again, and he continued to murmur into her ear, "Now look at how beautiful you are. Your reddish fuzz... your nether lips...", he traced her with his index finger, eliciting a mewl, "... your inner lips... and here's your nub. It's already swollen. And you're already getting wet for me."

Tywin sucked on Amaera's earlobe and enjoyed it when she squeaked and shuddered under his most intimate touch.

"Mmmmmh, panting for me? And so soon? Gooood. Now let me show you with my finger where I mean to enter you with my cock in a few moments time..."

Amaera stared at their reflection in the mirror as if she were paralysed - but hers was a mix of disbelief and embarrassment and fascination, not fear. She moaned when Tywin slid a finger into her, and he had a hard time not to lose control.

"Mmmmh, so tight and hot and wet. Look, how you're so aroused my finger is wet from your juices. Thaaat's it."

 

Tywin slid his finger in and out some more, but her body was so ready that he couldn't wait much longer. With his hands, he saw to it her legs were wide apart and in a good angle. Then, he positioned himself even closer behind her and made sure they could both see how his rigid member was nuzzling her folds from below.

"Oh my lord, please!" Amaera begged him, and Tywin was in high spirits about her reacting to his teasing with such unrestrained need.

So he placed his tip at her entrance, all the while making sure they wouldn't miss a detail in the mirror. Finally, he slid into her. Slowly. For a moment, he had to close his eyes, because it felt so, SO good. All Tywin wanted to do was to pound into this woman with abandon. To keep things slow was the probably most difficult task he had ever faced.

He pulled out again, and his shaft was glistening from her arousal. For a moment, he teased her again with his tip.

"My lord! Oh my lord! Please! Let me feel you!" Sansa begged, and Tywin obliged.

 

Afterwards, he applied this method for a few minutes. Even if the challenge was incredible, veins became visible on his neck, and sweat was dripping down his body, he knew he had to pull out completely in between thrusts, or else he'd lose control right away.

However, he still wanted to teach Amaera another lesson. So when he noticed her thighs tremble from sheer tension, and when he realised that his darkened member was starting to leak fluid, he knew he had to change tactics to prolong the game even more. Tywin only hoped he wouldn't die an early death from a heart attack.

He pulled out of Amaera again - which earned him more protest than ever - and he placed his arm around her middle. With firm movements, he steered the confused woman to the desk and placed her on top of it. One look back into the mirror, and he knew she'd be able to watch everything unfold there as well. Next, he grabbed a chair and sat down between her thighs.

Tywin had to admit he had never been eager to eat out a woman, but he only needed to smell Amaera's arousal from close up, and his mind changed. He draped her legs over his shoulders, noticed her eyes widen... and set to work.

"AAAAAAH!" Amaera's wild moan and the way she bucked against him was everything he had hoped for.

Encouraged, Tywin set to work. He was thorough, but not too quick, because he wanted to increase her lust even more before she'd break apart completely. The throaty moans above him turned into desperate wailing. Oh, this was good!

Tywin's cock twitched like mad, and it hurt. So he stood up and slid into the pulsating, hot cunt waiting for him. A loud groan ripped off his lips. Perhaps the seven heavens existed after all - just why would he, of all men, be allowed a glimpse into them?

In and out he moved a few times with long, deep, even thrusts. And all the while, he knew Amaera was able to watch his flexing back muscles and buttocks in the mirror. By then, tears were streaming down her face.

Tywin pulled out one last time, sat down, and pleasured her with his mouth again, but it was clear he himself was reaching the breaking point as well, and quickly so. When Amaera's thighs started to tremble again, he got up and thrust into her, finally letting loose, and he ploughed her with such desperate need as if he meant to split her apart.

His heartbeat was in his ears, but finally, he could hear her scream in the distance, felt the greedy convulsions around his cock, and ground himself into her again and again with a long snarl. Amaera screamed again, there were more tremors... and Tywin lost it. He roared and then broke down on top of her, pinning her to the desk.


	7. Back story II

After their extensive coupling, Tywin woke up in the middle of the night. As it turned out, he was holding a naked, slumbering Amaera in his arms - and she was twitching and trembling in her sleep.

"No!", she whimpered. "No! Please! I don't want to go. Mother! Father!"

 

Tywin's heartbeat accelerated. Amaera was talking in the Common Tongue! She had the intonation of a child, but her wording was definitely in Westerosi instead of Valyrian.

 _"She IS Sansa!"_ Tywin thought. _"She has to be. So I've been right all along. And now, she's dreaming of her abduction."_

He purred into her ear in the Common Tongue, "Do you want to see your mother and father? I can help you meet them again."

Tears welled up in the corners of the young woman's closed eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"Mother! Father! Don't... please!"

 

Then, she woke up with a start. Tywin could just make out the perfect oval of her pale face in the darkness.

"Lord Tywin?" she breathed and rubbed at her face with a hand.

Tywin combed with his fingers through her hair.

"Just a nightmare," he said.

"Pardon, mylord?" Amaera - or Sansa - said. In Valyrian.

Tywin's eyebrows rose. The confusion in her voice sounded genuine. So he repeated his statement in the language she understood. Next, he tested her a little further.

"You spoke in the Westerosi language when you were asleep, you know? I think you must have been born in Westeros - in the North, to be precise."

 

The slave in his arms went rigid. Like an automaton, she answered, "I'm from Essos, and I don't know a thing about Westeros."

To Tywin's ears, it sounded like a well-rehearsed sentence that had been ingrained over years. He felt the sudden need to strangle Ser Jorah Mormont.

With a sigh, he changed the topic and continued to comb with his fingers through the auburn tresses he was coming to appreaciate more with every hour.

 

"Be that as it may," he commented. "There's something I'd like to know. How exactly is Magister Illyrio able to keep you although slavery isn't officially allowed in Pentos?"

Of course, Tywin did have a concept of how it worked, but he wanted to be sure.

Amaera - or Sansa - relaxed a little and answered in a hesitant tone, "You see... The magister paid for me, or rather for my freedom. And now, I have to work for him to repay his generosity."

Tywin nodded to himself. Just as he had expacted it to be.

"I see. What did the magister pay for you then? And how much salary would you earn if he didn't keep all the money for his... compensation?"

She told him, and Tywin would have whistled through his teeth, had he not anticipated what she'd say. He did some quick calculations.

"At this rate, you'd be truly free at the age of about sixty or a little more. And then, the magister - or his heir - would kick you out into the streets, because he wouldn't want to take care of an ageing woman."

There was a silent, sad nod at his chest.

 

Tywin was annoyed but had to admire the perfidious perfection of the concept. At the same time, he felt a pang of grim satisfaction: he now knew how to outwit Mopatis with respect to the woman in his arms. For Tywin knew three things for sure: her true identity was the one of Sansa Stark, long-lost daughter of the Warden of the North; he'd take her home to Westeros; and he'd make her his before her parents could claim her and give her to some oaf of a Northern sod. And though it didn't show on his ever-serious face - if possible even less so because of the surrounding darkness - Tywin did feel something very intense. Something alien to him. Or at least something forgotten. It took Tywin a while to realise it was elation.


	8. Another day, another prospect

They managed to sleep another couple of hours. Back in Westeros, Tywin would have risen well before sunrise. As it was, here in Pentos the bed and its _content_ were very effective when it came to delaying the beginning of the day. At home, Tywin would have been furious about being late. Here, however, he couldn't muster enough annoyment to kindle it.

Yet, what did distress him was that on waking up, his cock was half hard - not quite enough to go straight ahead with it, and it was sore from the previous tumbles besides. So Tywin asked itself to which advantage he could use this less than ideal state of things. When Amaera, or Sansa, rubbed her face against his chest in her sleep he had an idea. With his nosetip, he trailed through her tresses, enjoyed her feminine scent, and allowed his fingers to wander under the blanket.

"Mmmmmh," the young slave purred in his arms and pressed herself even closer.

How she could be so enthusiastic about him even in her sleep was a mystery to Tywin, but he'd be the last one to object. His index finger traced the velvety skin of her buttocks, then dipped into even more intimate spheres and traced her nether lips, too.

Sleepy eyelids started to flutter.

"Good morning," Tywin murmured. Unabashed, he continued his outrageous caresses. Even intensified them. When he slid his finger into the warm body at his side, Amaera uttered a mewl.

"That good?" Tywin asked without ever missing a beat.

There was another mewl, and Amaera started to move against his hand for more friction. She was also getting wet for him. How easy it was to arouse her! A young woman with a healthy appetite. Just the right predisposition to be a companion for a Lannister.

Tywin removed his finger, which earned him some protest. Next, he wrapped a long, feminine leg around his middle and slowly worked himself into the well-prepared body that was so conveniently open for him. Amaera, or rather Sansa, uttered a low moan. Aaah, now that was just what Tywin was after!

Truth be told, he had rather worn himself out before, so he didn't have a lot of energy; but some languid momentary intimacy was something he could enjoy. Amaera wrapped her arms around his neck, and Tywin rolled her onto the back. For a few minutes, there was some occasional rocking and grinding, not much more. It was all quite harmless, actually, but still delicious.

Then, Tywin's cock decided to have had enough, much to their chagrin. So he pulled out.

"No! Please!" Amaera begged him.

Tywin nibbled on her collarbone for a moment, and growled, "I can't stay much longer. More negotiations. But I'll take delight in the fact that you'll be yearning for more of this all day. I want you dripping and wild for me when I return."

Truth be told, that would probably be his own state in the evening, too, but two eager participants in the game of juices was certainly no disadvantage. Amaera didn't see it that way and protested some more. In fact, she sounded so desperate that Tywin was tempted to lick her into oblivion. But no, he had to focus on his day job, even if he knew that there were hours of a willing, wet woman pining for him ahead. While he was donning his clothes, Tywin wondered if Amaera would pleasure herself while he was gone. This, in its turn, fueled some entirely enticing fantasies on his part. Ahhh, yes, everything was going according to plan. Had he been a merrier man, he'd have whistled a tune on his way out of the guest wing. He just stopped for a short moment to give a female servant some orders considering food and clothing for his young mistress.

 

"You look mighty content, Lord Lannister," grinning Illyrio Mopatis greeted him at the breakfast table.

Naturally, Tywin didn't take the salacious bait and answered, "Yes - I think we'll reach a lot today. Should we begin with the prices for the small amount of livestock we can transport across the Narrow Sea? I've given it much thought: geese and chickens should be possible in some quantities, in compcontrast to bulkier animals. After this long winter, we simply need some quick results with regard to breeding cattle. And afterwards, we could continue with talks about the barrels of fat and grain to guarantee my subjects' survival in the near future."

Mopatis plopped some quail eggs into his mouth and munched heartily.

"When it comes to poultry, I could give you the following recommendations and offers..."

 

They discussed a lot, and on more than one occasion, Tywin sensed how Mopatis was trying to fleece him. It was a given that the magister would try to do so - Tywin would have done the same in his place. Thankfully, he himself was clever enough to foil the man's insidious strategy.

There were more than a few moments when Tywin had to think of the waiting woman in his quarters. His cock was slowly recovering and twitched a little in anticipation from time to time. Of course, further up Tywin was keeping a deadpan face. He was an old hand at such things and knew how to gloss over... certain distractions.

In the afternoon, his negotiations had reached a point that indicated a breakthrough and a deal on the following day. No wonder both men were in a decent mood. Tywin wondered if Mopatis would still be in high spirits at the very end, too. He doubted it. For now, however, there was no reason to spoil the mood, and the two men had yet another business dinner together. Easy conversation wasn't Tywin's strength, but he knew how to play along in a required situation. Just to be sure, he brought up some anecdotes about the "Rains of Castamere" so as to convey his... style of politicking in case of a crisis. It came as no surprise that Mopatis understood the underlying message and sported a jovial smile that served to highlight the man's own dangerousness. If there was one thing Tywin could appreciate it was cunning - notwithstanding the fact that of course, he didn't like it one whit to be outsmarted. For now, however, there were no indications that he'd end up on the losing side, so Tywin could ignore for a while how disgusting the grotesquely obese man was in general.

 

When he returned to his guest quarter, however, all he could think was, "Phew. And now, I need a really decent tryst."

His cock saluted at the idea, and Tywin could barely await it to throw his little slave onto the mattress and to fuck all the day's business tension out on her. One corner of his mouth even moved upwards, if only a fraction: he could imagine all too well just how desperate Amaera would be by now. Oh, he'd give her what she needed... and even more if possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there have been some wormy sentences in this part. Please forgive me any stilted passages... My brain has been unwilling to come up with better solutions in some places.


	9. Trauma & heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People in canon wouldn't know the psychological term I'm using in the chapter title, but I'm still using it there as readers will understand, and I think that's what counts in a title.

No sooner had Tywin opened the door to his room than a young, excited woman flew into his arms. Amaera wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him senseless. Now that was just the eager welcome he had hoped for, and he indulged her enthusiasm for a moment. Moreover, he noticed his mistress was wearing the dress he had ordered from the servant in the morning. It was a simple, loose thing held together with a cord belt. A black silk scarf decorated the slave's delicate shoulders. Yes, Tywin's orders had been followed to the last letter.

After all the frolicking in front of the mirror, he intended to blindfold Sansa today to show her the opposite - and equally contenting - erotic qualities of this treatment. In addition, he had brought along a feather and one or two other items to enrich their tryst.

In a businesslike tone, he asked, "You've had everything you've needed?"

Amaera - or Sansa - blinked at his less than emotional question and nodded hesitantly.

"Of course, my lord. You're taking good care of me. Have the negotiations gone well?"

Tywin nodded.

"Exceedingly so. Tomorrow, I'll ride out to the harbour to organise the preparations of the impending deal. You know - the cargo and everything. It should only be a matter of a short while until everytthe rest will be settled, I'd say."

"Oh."

 

Amaera cast down her eyes, then looked up again.

"May I ask something of you, my lord?"

 _"So here we go - women you fuck always want something from you. Greedy and manipulative like father's whore, the lot of them. I should have known,"_ Tywin thought.

Aloud, he said, "And that is?"

Amaera cast down her eyes again and bit her lip. Very effective, her technique, he had to give her that.

"You see... the sigil of your house sports, a lion, doesn't it?"

"It does. And...?"

Amaera gesticultated.

"It's just... could I get a carved little wooden lion from you as a gift? I mean... in case your seed has taken root. I'd like to give it to the child one day and be able to tell him or her something about... his or her origin."

Now, it was Tywin who was blinking. Had this young woman ripped open his ribcage to pet his bleeding heart, it couldn't have felt any differently. She was expecting him to leave her in a few days. Was expecting to have to serve other guests next. And she was only asking for the most humble trifle where others would have asked for an expensive gift. Besides... a child? Gods, if he had sired a child, he, Tywin Lannister, would make sure it would be born on the right side of the bed to be able to claim its adequate position in life! Tywin intended to take this mode of action anyway - only Amaera obviously didn't expect anything from life after what she'd been through.

 

"What if I wanted to give you more?" he asked.

At once, Amaera shook her head.

"I've only done little for you, and besides, others would take away anything valuable from me. A wooden lion would mean so much to me, really."

Tywin breathed in and out.

"Our potential offspring will get a lion, rest assured."

"Thank you so much!" Amaera breathed and leaned herself against Tywin.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

"If you could - would you like to see Casterly Rock, my family seat?"

Amaera tensed.

"Of course I'd love to, but there's no use in futile dreams."

Oh my. She really didn't know how wealthy and powerful Tywin was. Or how relentless in pursuing is goals.

 

With his hands, he combed through her auburn tresses. After a moment, he allowed his fingers to wander down her front and to nestle on the cord belt. Once it was open, he took hold of the loose cord, parted the fabric of the dress, and revealed Sansa's breasts. So much beauty - and it was all for him. For him and him alone!

Amaera looked up at him with her oh so blue eyes, which had the the hue of the Tully family, but which also contained the depths of her soul. How could one single person be so warm and open? Tywin bowed down and started to suckle on a coral-coloured nipple.

"Ah!"

Hmmm, Amaera's gasps and moans were like music in Tywin's ears, and her taste was addictive. He had never overindulged in food or drink, but this woman could easily make you forget your principles. Someone so powerful had to become the Lady of the Rock.

Tywin steered his mistress to the bed, and when they were there, he pushed her onto the mattress and turned her around to get a view of her fine backside. He let her feel the bulge in his breeches, too. Moreover, he grabbed her hands and quickly bound them together with the cord belt.

"Mylord?" Amaera squeaked, alarm in her voice. She tried to move her hands apart, without success.

Tywin grabbed the black silk scarf she had lost near the bed and bound it around her eyes.

"Do tell me," Tywin growled into her ear, "did you touch yourself when I was gone? Were you a bad little slave, because you wanted to fuck me so hard?"

"I... I...," Amaera stuttered.

"Well?"

A quavering voice muffled from the mattress answered, "I'm sorry. I missed you so much..."

Tywin clicked his tongue and loosened his own belt.

"Looks like I have to punish my nasty little slave...," he purred.

"MYLORD?" Amaera squeaked again.

Tywin brought down his belt on her perfect little arse. Naturally, it was just the lightest smack since Amaera seemingly still had to grasp the concept of this erotic game.

 

To his surprise, however, his mistress uttered a sound that reflected nothing but pure agony. It was completely out of relation with the way Tywin had touched her. And granted, he did feel triumphant when he inflicted punishment on those who had wronged him. This here, however, was as far as possible from what he had intended.

Only... things got even worse. Amaera started to tremble and to curl up into a tight ball, bound hands still on her back. At once, Tywin removed the scarf and realised her eyeballs had moved up so you could only see the white. Quickly, he got out his dagger and cut the cord belt apart.

"Amaera! What's wrong?" he wanted to know.

No reaction. He could have spoken to the wind as well. Instead, his mistress started to thrust her head against the mattress with rhythmic movements.

 

At that point, it dawned on Tywin what was going on. He had seen such reactions from people who had witnessed atrocities in wars. Their shock was so deep, so encompassing, that their body and soul simply locked up in certain situations.

Now the question was... what could Amaera, or rather Sansa, have experienced that would have such an effect on her? Again, Tywin could make some intelligent guesses. During her abduction as a toddler, she had likely been bound and blindfolded at some point. And he already knew she had been struck by her former master.

By then, Tywin was ready to hit himself. He had been so stupid to assume that she'd like this kind of treatment in bed! When had he ever been such an oaf!?

Self-reproach, however, didn't help. With determined strides, he walked over to his medical bag. Not trusting Mopatis or anyone else with potions and similar things, he had had Maester Creylen prepare an assortment of common medicines for the voyage, along with a list of names, effects, and instructions on how to use them. What Amaera needed was a sedative. Fortunately, his maester had carried out his duty well, and from his times at war Tywin had at least a basic understanding of how to make a suffering person swallow a concoction.

Soon, Amaera started to relax, and after another minute or two, she fell asleep. Tywin looked at her naked form, and he realised that despite his advanced age, he was still capable of learning something new. He was honestly and truly feeling sorry.

At the same time, his wish to torture Ser Jorah Mormont to death became an all-consuming white-hot flame. At least in that respect, he was still the Tywin Lannister he knew...


	10. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for some more bittersweet heartache?

Tywin woke up early the next morning, like he was wont to do. Only he didn't get up. Amaera was in his arms, all warm and relaxed. The sweetest burden he could think of. Normally, he didn't have a taste for sweetness - but in her presence, things were changing fast. For example, he was starting to make mistakes. It didn't do to go on like this. While Tywin was holding her, he used the time to ponder many things.

_"She's traveled before, also aboard a ship - but that must have been horrible experiences for her. What can I do to help her cope with the situation? I might need extra doses of medicine. And we'll take the direct route to Lannisport, not via King's Landing. The later people find out about her, the more time she'll have to adapt at the Rock before her parents will make an appearance. If we took the route on land, they'd expect us to meet at Riverrun. No. That's not an option."_

There was also the question on how to help her deal with the past and to rediscover her Westerosi heritage. One only had to think of how vehemently she was blocking everything now that reminded her of home. Even her first language.

_"Probably not even Maester Creylen's expertise would be enough in this situation. But wait! Aren't there these monks at the Quiet Isle? They've got a reputation  for dealing with particularly difficult cases. And their religion might help Amaera's mind. Sansa's mind. Whatever."_

Tywin had never been a religious person to begin with and had more or less lost his faith when Joanna had died, even if he had never acted openly against the High Septon and his Seven-Pointed Star. Yet, he was willing to accept a cult if it came in handy to serve his purposes. So the first thing he'd do back in Westeros would be to buy a raven bound for the right destination to the Quiet Isle. That could surely be managed in the first port where they'd get fresh water. The only important point was to keep a certain someone hidden...

_"Joanna, oh Joanna! What does it all mean? It's not as if I've forgotten you, love, I swear. I could never forget you. Not ever. You'll always have a place in my heart. It's just... life is happening..."_

 

A "mmmmh" from Amaera's side indicated his little mistress was slowly waking up. Tywin started to comb with his fingers through her hair and to purr into her ear. On instinct, Amaera started to rub her face against his.

"Morning," she murmured, still half asleep.

"And a good morning to you as well," Tywin answered and placed a kiss on her lips.

Amaera answered his kiss at once, smiling, and opened her eyes. Two or three heartbeats later, her smile faded. It was obvious her memory had set in.

"I... I didn't pleasure you last night, mylord," she said, hesitating.

"And I didn't pleasure you," Tywin replied. "It was my plan to do so, but... You see, there are people who consider it a lustful experience... the things I did to you last night. I didn't take it into consideration that with your experiences you'd react completely differently."

Eyes wide, Amaera covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh!", she breathed. "When they taught me about how to take care of a guest's needs, I also learned of these variants. Only I didn't think... I didn't realise..."

She faltered.

"Ssssht!" Tywin told her. "It wasn't your fault."

Amaera cupped his cheek.

"You're so kind to say that. Future guests will complain if I don't... function properly."

Tywin would have needed to sit down, had he not still been lying in bed. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"What if you won't have to serve any future guests?"

Amaera sighed.

"The magister might really give me a more humble task if I can't fullfil his expectations. It would take longer to reach my independence then, of course, because my salary would be less. But on the upside... I wouldn't know how to serve someone else in bed. It is weird, mylord. I've only met you a few days ago, I barely know you - then how is it possible I've become so fond of you in such a short time?"

 

Amaera's - or rather Sansa's - words had the strangest effect on Tywin. From one moment to the next, his chest felt as if it had been compressed and as if he didn't get enough air. His mouth crashed down onto hers, and he wrapped his arms around her as if he wanted to hold her forever. In a metaphorical sense, he did want to do just that.

When their lips parted again, they were both panting.

Tywin's voice was raw and harsh when he asked, "Do you know how incredibly rich I am? What if I intended to pay Mopatis the sum you owe him so you could be truly free?"

Amaera's eyes widened.

"Oh, I could never ask you to do such a generous thing for me! And the magister... I think he'd use me to get an enormous sum from you. Besides... you know... What would I do if I were free? I can remember how the slaves welcomed Daenaerys Targaryen when she brought them freedom. They were overjoyed. But it didn't work. The slaves had never learned how to be free. How to take care of themselves. They lost their orientation and everything backfired. I fear it might happen to me as well if I really strove for freedom."

Tywin's thumb followed the curve of her lips.

"The magister will try to con me in any case, so I'll have to haggle him down even more effectively, that's all. With regard to freedom - I think I see what you mean. You'd need a strong guardian at your side then. What if I were that man? What if I guided you? You'd belong to me, in a way, granted, but I'm not someone to share you with anyone else. And your living conditions would the one of a lady. You'd learn how to be at ease with yourself."

Amaera placed a finger onto his lips and shook her head.

"Please don't make me dream of such things. I couldn't bear it if I got disappointed. And sooner or later, you'd surely get weary of me."

Tywin's jaws worked.

"Amaera. I'm a widower, you see, but during my marriage, I never betrayed my wife. Never. I'm not a man who tires of a woman. Or who gives up on a woman. All I want to know is this: if you really got the chance to come with me, would you do it? Would you accompany me to the Westerlands?"

Amaera chuckled, and Tywin had never known a chuckle could sound so sad. She still didn't believe in a real opportunity.

"In the land of songs and stories, there'd be nothing I'd want more, mylord. What have I done to deserve so much goodness from an important man like you?"

Tywin couldn't believe his ears. It was mind-boggling, no less. Oh, sure, he was an important man - but how could anyone conceive him as friendly or good? Especially after an episode like the one on the previous evening?

"You are you," Tywin growled. "And that's why you deserve so much more."

Next, he kissed his mistress, the woman he intended to keep forever. Their caresses inevitably led to intimacy, and it surprised Tywin that Sansa didn't hesitate to accept him inside. Another point that unsettled him was the quality of their ensuing lovemaking. Tywin knew he'd always been a passionate, energetic lover. What he possessed in wildness he typically lacked in tenderness. Yet, all of a sudden, things were changing here, too. Never before had he been so gentle in bed, so avid to enjoy every single touch consciously. To make things even more confusing, he actually liked it that way. What in the name of the Seven was going on with him?


	11. Preparations

Tywin thought he could still feel her kisses on his body when he rode over to the harbour. Her kisses. Amaera. SANSA. Tywin inhaled the salty air coming in from the sea, and even if it was much warmer than back in Lannisport it still carried a whiff of home.

 _"About time to ready myself to return to the Rock. The people there are waiting for provisions from Pentos,"_ he thought and briefly wondered how bad the situation was in Winterfell. If the Westermen were starving, things had to be even worse in the North.

 

Tywin thought it was good he had come with four ships instead of just one. Of course, his purchases would still be barely more than a hot droplet in a sea of ice, but it was possible to send out more vessels in the course of time. He and Mopatis had already addressed these points, and the magister was highly interested in making money over a longer period of time. The precise terms had still to be defined, but both parties were too invested in this deal to fear a failure.

Deep in thought, Tywin moved on to the ships and had a meeting with the captains. They needed to discuss whether it was more useful to stock the different kinds of cargo on different ships, or whether it was more useful to split up the cargo in case a ship got lost in a storm on the way back home. They also had to think of the transportation to the ships and the contact with the port administration - which would demand a noticeable fee. Finally, there were the water provisions for the way back home and the manning of the ships to be considered. Some sailors had left the crews after arriving in Pentos, likely because they didn't want to return to a much colder climate and to a starving population.

The meeting turned out passable. Tywin knew his captains to be competent and experienced, and the men did their best to fullfil their duties.

 

When they were done, Tywin turned to a short, stocky elderly man with a moustache named Captain Tonning. He was the one who sailed the "Goldstar", the ship where Tywin would have his personal cabin.

"When we're heading home, you may expect a young woman to accompany me, captain. I want you and your men to treat her with utmost respect. The passage will be difficult for her, because she has made bad experiences, so it might be useful to allow her to be on deck for longer periods of time. Depending on the weather, of course. I've also got a list with medicine she might need. Do make sure you've got everything stocked and ready. And when we're in international waters, I'd ask you to wed us."

Captain Tonning looked at Tywin with huge eyes, but then straightened himself and answered, "Aye, aye, my lord. It shall be done according to your wishes."

Tywin nodded and felt content. He had thought long and hard how to marry his mistress best - and a wedding aboard a ship was an internationally accepted procedure. That way, they didn't have to decide between a sept and a Northern wedding fashion... and even less an Essosi wedding style.

 

Once Tywin had finished giving out his orders he was far more relaxed and even allowed himself a look at the beauty of the city. Well, to be honest, Tywin didn't care much about aesthetics, but he did have an eye for the defensive fortifications as well as the opportunities Pentos offered for transactions of any kind. At a square, he came across an assortment of various shops and stalls. Normally, he wouldn't have paid them much heed, but when he noticed a display of wooden carvings, he dismounted his horse and walked over to the woman who was selling her goods. It was a matron of about 45 years with greasy grey hair and humble clothing. Again, under different circumstances Tywin wouldn't have approached this commoner, but one look at her carvings told him that they were of a decent quality - in contrast to the vendor.

"M'lord, what canni do for ye?" the woman asked in a weird, thick Valyrian accent that highlighted her low social status.

Tywin scanned the wooden toys.

"Do you happen to have a lion on offer?"

The woman curtsied awkwardly and nodded.

"Sure do. Lookat them two here. Yer from Westeros? Yer can give me five of yer coppers for one then."

Tywin looked at the animals. A lion and  lioness. Of course, the toys couldn't compare to the standards Tywin was used to, but he had an inkling Amaera was expecting a gift like this one.

"I'll give you seven coppers for both animals."

"Eight, if't please m'lord. This is fine Essosi wood."

Tywin was surprised the woman dared to haggle with him, but then again, he wasn't in Westeros where his reputation caused people to tuck their tails between their legs, figuratively speaking. Against his will, he did feel a grudging respect for the woman and her trading instinct.

 

On returning to Mopatis's house, Amaera flew into his arms as soon as he entered his rooms. True enough, she beamed at him and uttered a shriek of joy when he produced the wooden lions.

Tywin repeated what he had already thought earlier on, "A lion and a lioness - representing the two of us."

One moment later, he had his mistress clinging to him and showering him with kisses.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my lord, they're so beautiful! I'll treasure them for the rest of my days!"

Tywin thought of how his father's whore hadn't been content with even the finest jewellery and knew just how different Amaera was from other women. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He had the acute feeling that despite all the problems ahead he couldn't have found himself a better second wife.

 

After having refreshed himself, Tywin went to see the magister. Mopatis welcomed him jovially, ready for the final round of negotiations.

"Lord Lannister! Back from your tour of the town? And what do you say? Isn't Pentos beautiful? Doesn't it have everything on offer you could possibly wish for?"

At that, they sat down and discussed all the final aspects they hadn't settled yet. Of course, Tywin remained adamant about certain points, same as Mopatis. Tywin just wanted to make sure things didn't go too smoothly, because it would serve its purpose.

In the end, he spoke, "If I really have to pay so much for the livestock, I demand one more item as a bonus. The mirror from my guest quarters."

From then on, things were easy. Mopatis had clearly anticipated this demand, had already calculated the price accordingly - and they both knew it. In the evening, the magister organised yet another opulent guest meal to celebrate the swift and positive results of their talks. Only Tywin knew that there would be one more chapter to this story the following morning. And it probably wasn't visible on his face, but he did feel close to smiling.


	12. On how to deal with the magister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for allusions to violence at the end.

When Tywin returned to his chambers, he quickly found Amaera clinging to him as if he were her beacon. As if he were something she wouldn't want to give up on in the stormy sea of life.

 _"She's fearing to lose me,"_ Tywin thought and could still only marvel at how she had chosen him, of all people, to attach her feelings to. POSITIVE feelings.

Since he was in an uncharacteristically good mood, he responded to Amaera by putting his arms around her as well.

"Come, let us drink some wine together," he suggested. "We've got to discuss a few relevant matters."

Amaera looked up at him as if she were searching for some extra information in his face.

"Of course, my lord, if it's your wish."

 

Lord Tywin ordered a flagon of red wine. It wasn't as good as Dornish red, but still good enough. After he had told his mistress to sit down at his desk, he took the chair right next to her.

"We need to talk about the imminent future," he began. "You say you'd like to accompany me to the West, and this is very much in line with my own wishes. Actually, I've already given orders at the harbour that a passage for a young woman who'll be accompanying me should be prepared."

Amaera's blue eyes widened.

"Really? But... but how could I come along with you? I've got to work for the magister."

Tywin lifted up a finger.

"Not if he gets compensated. You've told me how much you owe Mopatis - so once he's got that sum, you're free of him."

Amaera shrugged.

"Indeed. And that's the problem. It's so much money - money which I don't have."

Tywin was close to screwing up his eyes.

"But I do. Granted, the sum isn't a trifle, but I'm rich enough to pay it at once and without having to think twice. And it's like I've just told you: I want to have you at my side. Always."

 

Amaera gaped at him, slowly shaking her head.

"You... you can't mean it," she stammered.

Tywin snorted.

"Of course I can. Never underestimate my greed. And you haven't changed your mind, have you?"

Truth be told, Tywin was ready to steal her away like a Northern wildling would steal away any woman he wanted. It was the first time he understood that concept.

Amaera - Sansa - continued to gaze at him for a few more heartbeats. Then, she threw herself at him and kissed him so wildly that he could barely breathe anymore. After a little while, the kisses were intermitted by sobs.

"You want to take me along to your home! You really do!" his mistress blubbered.

Under different circumstances, Tywin would have found her emotional behaviour most annoying. He was used to people not believing him; this context, however, was a completely different one.

 

After a while, Tywin was able to move away enough to be able to explain his plan in some more details.

"Tomorrow morning, I'll give you the money. Call it a most generous 'tip for your services'. You'll go to Mopatis with me. Hand over the money. And then, you can come along with me. You'll be free."

Sansa smiled at him, but now, there was doubt in her eyes.

"Of course, I'll be indebted to you instead of the magister afterwards."

Tywin shook his head.

"There is no debt. Just my wish to be with you. If you want to stay by my side, it's your decision."

Of course, it wasn't quite true, but it would be better to give Amaera the impression of having a choice.

Yet, the young slave woman still wasn't convinced.

"The magister won't let me leave. He just won't. Or at least he'll want more money."

Tywin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Mopatis sees you as an object. Precious chattel. There are no romantic feelings involved on his part. But I assume you're right with regard to the extra money. You'll give him another ten per cent. That will shut him up. Believe me, he's got no other interests in this affair than his personal gain."

Amaera bit her lip and Tywin could tell how insecure and nervous she was. How she still feared to hope for a better lot - only now, she couldn't suppress hope completely anymore.

 

"Let us relax together," he said and pointed to the bed with his chin. He wanted to have his mistress exhausted so she'd be able to find at least some sleep at night.

Without further ado, they moved to the mattress. To his immense chagrin, Tywin had to find out his cock was still too exhausted to function properly.

 _"In my youth, I'd have taken her thrice,"_ he groused inwardly.

Since there was no helping it, he opted for pleasuring Amaera with other body parts. At least this strategy proved to be rewarding, and he was able to make her peak no less than four times within two hours. In the end, Amaera was so jaded that she dozed off in no time.

Tywin wished he could have been in the same position. While his intimacies had worn him out a little, too, his state was not comparable to Amaera's. He was still thinking of what would happen in the morning.

 _"If Mopatis tries to play foul, he'll find out which kind of opponent I am,"_ Tywin thought.

Over the next two hours, he entertained visions of various extremely creative variants of killing the magister and his guards in case of need. Throttling the fat man with vine tendrils or suffocating him with an overdose of food were feasible options, given the surroundings, and rather interesting - if a little exaggerated.

The question was only if it would come to the worst.

 _"He's a sly man,"_ Tywin thought... _"Let's hope he's got a survival instinct that is driven by common sense. I may have need of more trading deals with him - or other Essosi - in the future."_


	13. Easiness and Difficulties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's have another update before Christmas...

The next morning, Amaera was so antsy Tywin couldn't do anything to help her relax again. So he let it be. He knew better than to waste his energy on something beyond his reach. When it came to himself, he felt the focus and the thrill that often seized him in challenging situations.

In this state, he arrived to join Mopatis for breaking his fast, hands clasped on his back. The magister waved him over with a greasy chicken drum in his hands.

"Aaah, good morning, my lord! Take a seat! Have a bite! Isn't it a lovely day? And haven't we struck an awesome deal? I say! I'll be sorry to see you go. Always a great enjoyment to be in the presence of a man as eloquent and distinguished as you. Rare occurrence, too."

Tywin inclined his head a fraction, thus indicating a nod.

"Good morning, magister. I hope the winds will take me home to Westeros safely so we'll be able to have more mutually beneficial negotiations in the future."

With these words, Tywin sat down and helped himself to some fruit, vegetables, and crisp bread still warm from the oven. He also opted for a glass of milk to go along with the food. Aboard the ship, fresh products would be a thing of the past after a few days.

 

They ate together, and Mopatis wanted to know more details about Casterly Rock. Of course, Tywin mentioned all the things that would be inspirational for further trading while not giving away any details of strategic valor. He also had to admit that in a strange way, the magister was right; while Tywin was disgusted by the man's physical presence, he was able to appreciate his cunning. There were not many men who could spar with Tywin on an intellectual level.

 

When their breakfast came to an end, Tywin addressed the magister with reference to his final plans.

"By the way, there is one last trifle I wanted to settle. This servant of yours, the one you sent me for my personal _wellbeing_ , has asked me to tell you she was requesting a word with you... in my presence."

Mopatis lifted an eyebrow.

"In your presence? Interesting. Pray tell, has she been an adequate pastime?"

Tywin shrugged.

"Passable, for me at least. I'm an ageing man, a long-term widower... To be honest, my tastes are... more elaborate when it comes to other luxuries. I should say the young woman was able to cater to my needs, but I was under the impression that she may not be able to deal with a younger man, or someone with more... advanced inclinations. At least she's fair to the eyes, I'll give her that."

 

Mopatis's second eyebrow rose.

"Ah," he made. "Mmmh, I guess I should be grateful for your... open words? Though I would have thought you a vigorous man, age notwithstanding." He waved a fleshy hand. "But be that as it may. Let's call the servant in and get this settled. We both want to use our time wisely, don't we?"

He clapped his hands and gave orders to fetch Amaera.

 

Moments later, the young woman entered the room - eyes cast down - and threw herself to the ground.

Mopatis growled, "My guest tells me you wanted to see me? Out with what you want to say then! We're both busy men."

Amaera was trembling while reaching into a pocket of the new dress Tywin had given her.

"Master Mopatis... You will remember the sum you paid for my freedom. There will never be enough words to describe how grateful I am for what you've done for me. Now... Lord Lannister was so kind to give me a generous tip for my... my services, and I'd like to repay my debts."

With those words, she produced a pouch with golden coins.

 

Mopatis's face froze. His eyes darted from Amaera to Tywin and back, understanding dawning in his eyes. Tywin kept a deadpan face.

"I see...," the magister uttered in a meaningful tone. "Put the money here, woman."

Amaera rose, darted to the table, and placed the pouch in front of the magister. Mopatis took it and spilled the coins onto the table.

"Now, Lord Lannister," he said gravely. "You're relieving me of my most valuable goods, and I must say I don't know if I like that. The mirror first. Now this woman. Oh - wasn't your house motto 'A Lannister always pays his debts'?"

Tywin readily informed the magister, "That's a saying." He emphasised, "Our real house words are 'Hear me Roar'."

 

Mopatis cast him a side glance.

"Ah. Hm. Hm." He moved through the pile of coins with his fat, beringed fingers. "Now... Amaera, I think you must either have miscalculated the sum, or you must have misremembered what I've paid for you. Of course, it is laudable that you're trying to pay back your debt, but this isn't enough, I fear."

Amaera winced and pulled in her head like a turtle.

"I'm sorry if I've made a mistake, master. What would have been the correct sum?"

 

The magister's actual charge was a solid fifteen per cent higher. It was what Tywin had anticipated. At this point, he allowed himself to do something very rare: he smiled. Knowing full well what it must look like and using it to the very effect.

"Now, now, magister," he said in a mild tone. "I am sure that a generous man like you will take into consideration what I've said. To my mind, she won't be usable for any more... challenging guests, and the poor lass should have a chance to see the place again where she was born. Besides, it is my plan to groom her for my future trading contacts with Essos, considering her intellectual abilities and her intimate _shortcomings_. Wouldn't it be good for both of us to have someone who understands the Pentoshi ways and who'd be extremely grateful in the negotiations? Wouldn't ten per cent extra be an adequate discount that will more than pay off in the future?"

Mopatis cocked his head. He smiled in the same way like Tywin.

"I have told you about the fascination of trading with you, haven't I? When I said that, I was still underestimating the entertainment of it all; I now see that clearly. All right then. As I've already mentioned, we both need to use our time wisely, and I'm sure you want to leave Pentos with the tide. Oh, and I'm sure you won't forget my generosity, will you?"

Tywin inclined his head in a way that showed respectful agreement, but without the tiniest spark of submission.

"Of course not." To the trembling Amaera, he said in a cool voice, "You may leave now. I'll give the magister the remaining sum."

 

After this, things proceeded swiftly - though in a somewhat frostier atmosphere. Tywin didn't care overly. This was the way negotiations sometimes went. It was a business transaction - not friendship - that drove the two men.

Still, he pointed out to Mopatis at the very end, "I didn't cheat you about that woman. In the future, she wouldn't have been suitable for the task you had assigned her. Your gain will be bigger this way."

Tywin could see the magister would have wanted to say a few things to this, but he simply wished him a good passage back home.

 

When hTywin picked Amaera up at his guest room, he told himself that very soon, she'd truly be Sansa for him. In this light, he generously accepted her wild hugs, her tears and her grateful blubbering against his chest. He even went as far as to pat her on the back to soothe her.

On the way to the harbour, he allowed his mistress to ride on his horse, right behind him. She clung to his body as if for dear life, and Tywin wouldn't have wanted to have it any differently.

Once they arrived at the ships and walked up the gangway of the vessel that would carry them, the captain approached them with a stony face.

"Lord Lannister!"

"What is it?"

"Bad news, my lord. We've just had a major argument with the harbour master. He's taxing us with an extra fee, or we won't be able to leave the harbour. Allegedly, the previous calculations had to be updated."

 

Tywin ground his jaws.

 _"I should have anticipated this,"_ he thought. _"This way, Mopatis will have his fifteen per cent extra after all."_

Yet, as much as he detested having been fleeced by the magister, his anger burned itself out when he looked at his mistress. She would have been worth an even higher fee. Amaera was priceless.

So he just said to his captain, "A deplorable mistake then, but we need to leave. No more conflicts, no more haggling. Let's go home."

 

After that, he turned around to the young woman at his side.

"Let me show you our cabin now."

Amaera nodded avidly, but she was a bit tense. Tywin took her by the arm and guided her below deck. Once they were there, her breathing accelerated, and she became even more rigid.

Tywin opened the door to their cabin. It was rather spacious in comparison to other people's places aboard the ship, and luxurious as well, but of course it couldn't compare to the spacious rooms Tywin or Sansa were used to on land. Just at that moment, there was the distant creak of a sail to be heard.

The same instant, Amaera's eyeballs rolled upwards, and her body went slack as she collapsed in Tywin's arms.

 _"Drat!"_ Tywin thought. _"This is happening sooner than I thought it would."_

"HEALER!" he roared.

Time to find out if his orders had been obeyed and if there were enough tranquillisers on board...


	14. Issues at Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last update in the old year! And I wish you a good start into 2019.  
> Now... are you ready?

The next days were as horrible as Tywin had anticipated them to be. It all burned down to Amaera not being able to stay below deck without having a fit. Curtains had to be put up in a corner above deck to give them a minimum of privacy - and even then, his mistress was as miserable as one could possibly think. She was trembling all the time, and she was throwing up so regularly she could barely keep hydrated enough. That there was ample hydration coming from the skies wasn't exactly helpful. To put it mildly.

It all left Tywin in a position he'd never been in before. Oh, during his war campaigns he'd lacked privacy before. Having to stay above deck without much sleep or comfort was something he could handle if need be.

No, the point was that he was always at Amaera's - or rather Sansa's - side. He hadn't brought a maid for her, and he couldn't allow his personal servant to take care of certain basic needs of the future Lady of Lannister. It just wouldn't be proper. The sailors' furtive gawking at the two of them was already bad enough as it was.

So Tywin did what he could and what he'd never done before for anyone else: hold her and her hair when she was vomiting into a pail. Wash her face. Console her as best he could. After all, he was a lion; somehow, he had to be able to purr, hadn't he?

 

Strangely enough, Tywin didn't resent his duties, apart from being the focal point of the crew's curiosity.

 _"I wasn't there when Joanna died,"_ he thought. _"I didn't help her. Couldn't help her. I failed her. I've got to do better this time. So much better. I must."_

Again and again, memories of his first wife assailed him - memories he had always pushed away. Joanna and himself in King's Landing, in all their golden glory and reckless, ruthless youth. The two of them when they had known the Rains from Castamere would never pose a threat again. Their courtship. Their first night together. Joanna and himself on the beach near Casterly Rock. Exhausted, but proud Joanna presenting him their twins after having given birth for the first time...

... and then, the black abyss. Her absence. The abomination named Tyrion.

Age-old tears he had never wept pooled in Tywin's eyes, and he was glad it was raining so nobody would know. Apart from the weak, soft little hand that suddenly cupped his cheek. Two glazed, Tully blue eyes that looked up at him with a wisdom beyond their age - and Tywin realised that for once, he could shed some tears without being considered weak. Amaera was the only person he knew who wouldn't think along these lines.

The next moment, however, she had been retching again, and they both had had to focus on... prevailing. For the time being.

 

A week passed by like a blur. There was no thought of a wedding in their situation, even less of intimacies. At long last, however, they both became a little better.

One morning, Amaera looked up at him and her gaze was full of warmth and gratefulness. It did weird things to Tywin's core. He had to accept that this young woman gave him life where he had always thought he had died alongside with Joanna.

He also knew it was time to prepare her for the future.

 

"Amaera," he began. "We must talk."

"Yes, master?"

The simple question left a sting in his entrails.

"Not master. You're free now. You can say 'my lord'. And 'Tywin' in private."

His mistress blushed and looked aside.

"This is improper for someone like me."

Tywin shook his head.

"I disagree. You see, I've been thinking about this a lot, and I've got a wish. I want to... Would you marry me?"

Amaera's eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her own spit. Tywin patted her back when she coughed.

 

"MARRY you!?" she breathed hoarsely. "But... but that's impossible! How could I possibly marry you!?"

In a calm voice, Tywin answered, "By saying 'yes'."

Amaera shook her head, eyes still huge.

"But you're a lord! One of the most important lords of Westeros, from all I know. How could a humble person like a slave... a former bed slave... It's impossible. I'm so, so far beneath you!"

 

Tywin breathed in and out. If things had been complicated before, they would become even more so now.

"As a matter of fact, you're not nearly as far below me as you think. On the contrary. I'm convinced to know something about you you don't know yourself."

Amaera stiffened. Tywin could feel how her essence was preparing to buckle at what he was going to say.

"I'm just a simple Essosi slave. There's nothing hidden you could know about me."

Now, it was Tywin who was shaking his head.

"I have to disagree. You see... I'm not a friend of theirs, but... I happen to know your parents."

Amaera paled.

Then, she prattled, "Impossible. My parents didn't want me and had me sold in Essos. I was just an extra mouth to feed."

"Who told you so?" Tywin asked back. "Do you remember?"

"My first master told me. And he had learned it from... from..." She stuttered, faltered. Winced. Her eyes growing wide once again. "Uncle Morrie! I had completely forgotten about Uncle Morrie! He said so, too, when he left... left me in the master's house..."

 

Amaera's hand flew to her mouth. Tywin closed his eyes and balled his fists.

"The man wasn't your uncle," he growled. "His name was Ser Jorah Mormont. He was a nobleman who ran into problems and betrayed his liege lord. He did so by abducting the liege lord's little daughter and by fleeing to another continent with her."

Amaera's complexion turned cheesy, and she shook her head. Again and again. Tywin knew he had to drive the nail home, no matter how painful it would be. There was no way to make things easier for her.

"Amaera - you were the one who was the liege lord's little daughter. You also look exactly like your mother when she was young. You were stolen away. Your parents have been inconsolable and have been trying to find you ever since. And Amaera isn't your real name, I should add. Your real name is Sansa Stark."

 

Moments later, Tywin was holding his twitching woman and was calling for the healer and for medicine again...


	15. Conditions & decisions

After the initial shock, Amaera - or Sansa - needed more than a day to recover enough to react to anything Tywin might say or want. At first, she was just asleep from the medicine, and then, she was crying so hard she was in her own world. At times, Tywin was so angry about her state he wanted to smash something. Then, however, he remembered what he had been like after Joanna's death, and his wrath evaporated.

The long-awaited change in Amaera's behaviour came from one moment to the next. She wiped her puffy eyes, sniffled a little more, and looked Tywin in the eyes. There was a strange hardness in her expression.

"The gods know I don't have an idea how it's possible to have come to feel so much for you in such a short time, my lord. And the gods know I'm grateful for everything you've done for me and that I only ever want to be at your side. Just... how can I be your wife?"

 

Tywin cocked his head.

"I've told you that it's possible... Sansa."

At that point, his mistress shook her head wildly.

"No!" she exclaimed. "That's exactly the point! I'm not... this other person. Even if you're right with your assumptions and I was given that other name after my birth - I'm not that person anymore. When I was seperated from my family I became Amaera. That's who I am now. I've grown into that person. My old roots are dead or too weak to draw upon them."

Tywin blinked while he had to listen to some more she had to say on the matter.

"You see: I've been a slave for years and years, and even if I'm free now, I don't know how to be a noble woman. How to support you in a way that would suit you. I can't speak the Common Tongue anymore, I've had no proper lessons, and I can't read or write. Your people wouldn't accept me, and I couldn't fault them. Amaera, free woman from Essos, that is all I am now."

 

Had someone thrust a dagger into Tywin's chest and twisted it around, he wouldn't have felt any different. His intellect told him that Amaera did have a point about her arguments - but his guts emphasised that it simply had to be possible for them to deal with any arising problems. He couldn't be without her anymore, incredible as it was.

 

He pulled Amaera closer to him so her cheek came to rest against his chest.

"I can see what you mean, but take courage. The situation isn't as hopeless as you may think. If Amaera is the name you want to use, you can do that. It is necessary to tell the people of your... heritage. Your ancestry. But you'll be Lady Lannister after our wedding, and you'll be in a powerful position. If you want to be called Amaera, it is possible. With regard to all other things - you may not have had a standard training, but it's obvious you're intelligent enough to be at my side, and you're experienced in ways other women will never be. My maester will see to it that you'll learn what you need to learn, such as reading and writing and doing sums. You're still young, you'll learn fast. And I will support you. Of course, we'll always have enemies, but that would be the case anyway, no matter your personal history. People love to hate me."

 

Amaera pressed herself even closer then.

"You're such a wonderful man," she whispered. "How could anyone not see that?"

Tywin combed through Amaera's red tresses and didn't know what to say to that. The mere possibility of being adored to such an extent was beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

"Don't put me on a pedestal," he said. "You'd be disappointed at some point."

 

Amaera looked up at him with her blue eyes and gave him a kiss. Then, she sank back against his chest. She sighed.

"There's something else, my lord. Surely, you want to have a splendid wedding with all your subjects and... perhaps also with my former family. And I can't begrudge you that wish - only I couldn't deal with such a feast."

Tywin allowed his thumb to trace the contours of her lips.

"As it happens, your wishes are in line with mine. You see - you're from the North and I'm from the West. Different gods, different traditions. But a wedding aboard a ship in international waters is accepted everywhere. Would it suit you to marry me here, and to have the captain seal the contract?"

Again, Sansa looked up at him with her big, blue eyes.

"You'd do such a thing?"

The next moment, she threw herself at him and was crying again - only now, her tears had nothing to do with sorrow. Tywin tried to remember if he'd ever been a source for tears of joy before he'd met this woman at his side, and he couldn't recollect a single incident. Amaera, free woman, formerly known as Sansa Stark, was teaching him new new things every day, by the look of it. He kissed the crown of her head.

 

From one moment to the next, however, Amaera tensed again.

"My lord, there's one last thing. When we're in Westeros, I don't want to travel North. You'll be my family. Those people who may have been my family once... they probably tried to find me, but they didn't. I don't want to see them."

Tywin allowed himself to trail his fingers through her hair again. He was surprised about this reaction, but on second thought, it wasn't as absurd as one might think. Amaera had gone through so much - and there were so many more challenges ahead. Still...

"You see, I won't force you to travel North, you've got my word on it," he conceded. "Yet, people will hear of your arrival and of who you are. Your parents will travel to the West, I'm sure of that. Nothing and nobody will stop them from seeing you. What we can do, however, is to set the frame for this meeting according to your needs and wishes. And while such a meeting will be difficult for you, it'll probably help you to come to terms with what has happened in the past."

 

Amaera remained tense.

"Did you ever come to terms with the death of your first wife, my lord?" she challenged him.

Now, it was Tywin who went rigid.

"I had no chance for one last meeting. So no, I didn't come to terms with her death. Not until I met you at least. I think I have started to do so now. At long last."

Amaera closed her eyes then.

She was very calm and collected when she spoke against his chest.

"I will marry you, Tywin of House Lannister."


	16. Wedding

Captain Tonning made big eyes when they approached him with their wish. Oh, it wasn't the fact _that_ they wanted to marry - Tywin had already indicated as much before. It was the fact that it was all coming about so quickly. As it was, Tywin intended to use Amaera's willingness to his advantage as long as it lasted. He did fear she might become afraid of her own courage if he didn't secure their connection in time.

As a result, Captain Tonning had to deal with Tywin's demand for immediacy. He did so by calling all the sailors together who were off duty. The more witnesses for the wedding, the better. And all the while, Amaera had wrapped her arms around Tywin's torso and was pressing herself flush against him. Even without looking, he could tell how the sailors were exchanging glances.

The captain coughed.

"My lady... it would be helpful if you could... errr... let go of your bridegroom for a moment so you can concentrate on the procedure?"

Amaera, however, only pressed herself some more against Tywin.

"Captain, please! I want to enjoy every moment I can get with this man. And I'm capable of listening and speaking while being close to my bridegroom."

Tywin allowed a finger to run through her red tresses while looking at the captain.

He spoke, "As you can see, captain, my bride is practising being a greedy Lannister. I'm sure you're capable of handling such a situation. You've worked for me for quite a while."

Tonning understood the implied message all too well and  nodded immediately and with alacrity.

"Of course my lord! Of course."

 

And then, it happened. Tywin Lannister married for the second time in his life. He could barely believe what was going on, and it was all a bit of a blur for him if he was honest. He had never intended to re-marry. Not ever. But now, things were suddenly different...

It had all happened so quickly they didn't even have cloaks! Captain Tonning was momentarily at a loss - until Amaera came up with the idea of exchanging the wooden toy lions as a symbol of their deep mutual connection. Tywin didn't mind his bride was so ready to use the Lannister emblem. With regard to her name, they chose the term "Amaera, free woman from Essos, born under the name of Sansa Stark".

Again, Tywin noticed the sailors exchange meaningful glances, and again, he couldn't care less. At the end of the ceremony, he gave his wife a kiss and knew that he now had a new Lady Lannister at his side. And he was glad, he had to admit. It felt also right that the captain had refrained from referring to the gods in the course of the wedding. While Tywin wasn't openly against the Faith, he wasn't religious either, so this procedure felt more honest than a ceremony in a sept. Granted, honesty wasn't a value he usually cared about, but when it came to a wife of his, he did want to have some clear structures.

 

Amaera was beaming up at him as if she had swallowed the sun, rose onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him soundly. Square on the mouth. In front of everyone.

There was clapping and whistling from the sailors, and suddenly, Tywin felt the strangest sensation: heat rising in his cheeks. Now that was something unheard of! He was the Lion of Lannister, a seasoned, ruthless politician and warrior! He couldn't be blushing, could he? To make things worse, he didn't know what to feel: on the one hand, there was anger about this blatant lack of etiquette, but on the other hand, there was pride about his wife desiring his kiss. What on earth was going on with him!?

"Wife!" he murmured into Amaera's ear. "If we want to go on kissing, we'll have to do it in a more private environment."

Now it was his bride who was blushing, and the most daring sailors hooted. After a sharp glance from Tywin, the reactions subsided, however, and the sailors scattered quickly.

 

In the meantime, Captain Tonnings had finished writing the according entry in his book. Tywin penned down his own name underneath it, and Amaera made three little crosses.

"Congratulations, Lord and Lady Lannister!" the captain said, and Tywin inclined his head to indicate he accepted the words.

"A tankard of beer for every sailor aboard the ship," Tywin ordered and told the cook to prepare him and Amaera a decent meal later.

For the time being... he just wanted to retire with his bride to enjoy some time with her in the proper way.


	17. Post-wedding

From his military times, Tywin was used to more or less public sex... just not when it concerned his own persona. The problem was that he knew he wouldn't be able to get his bride below deck without having to use his dousing medicine on her again. Had she been any loose woman, like those he'd had over the years, he wouldn't have cared whether she was conscious or not. As it was, however, he knew he wanted her to lose control in the throes of her passion. And the strangest thing was... he wanted others to know this woman was coming under him. For HIM. He wanted others to know what kind of gem he possessed whereas they didn't and never would.

 

So he lead Amaera to their makeshift cabin on deck and closed the curtains behind them. Together, they sank onto the furs and started to kiss without further ado. Tywin feasted on every accessible piece of exposed flesh, licking and nibbling and sucking as he went. At once, Amaera started to sigh and pressed herself against him like she'd done during the wedding.

Tywin's cock hardened in response to this. His hands followed his mouth, mapping, discovering... and revealing more skin. Her breasts were so beautiful, her rosy nipples already taut with arousal. Of course, he had to taste them... and to his delight, Amaera was just as enthusiastic.

Her hands sneaked under his clothes and explored him likewise - while never taking her sweet lips off him. When she unbuttoned his breeches, wrapped her hand around his stiff member and squeezed it gently, it happened: Tywin grunted and spilled his seed over her fingers as if he were a green boy of seventeen. Amaera chuckled, and her eyes were bright. Of course, Tywin had to pay her back, and by then, he knew her well enough and also knew how to achieve his goal best. It didn't take long until he had Amaera writhing under him. She was biting her lips and trying to avoid making any loud sounds, but Tywin was having none of it. He took his time and tortured her sensitive nub until she lost control.

"TYWIN!" Amaera moaned loudly as she came undone.

In a long tradition of Lannister pride, Tywin couldn't remember having felt so smug about an achievement for decades. He was quite sure that several sailors would be rubbing themselves in despair as soon as they'd get the chance.

 

When his bride regained her senses, she looked up at him with the most titillating blush on her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him towards herself, kissing him again and again. Tywin indulged her as her needs and wishes reflected his own ones. He needed a little while to recover, but it didn't keep them from enjoying themselves... and each other. When he was ready, Tywin slid into Amaera, and they both proceeded as if they hadn't peaked before.

 

Later, they enjoyed a hearty meal from the caboose. There was even a skin of fine Arbor gold for them. It was strange - under different circumstances, this humble kind of wedding would have been unthinkable for Tywin. Yet, he didn't mind it now. The limited context catered to his need for intimacy and exclusivety, to his greed for having his bride to himself.

 

It was all the more shocking when happy Amaera suddenly contorted her face, turned cheesy, and started to vomit into her pail.

 _"What in the name of -?"_ Tywin thought. _"She's being seasick again? Or has her food been bad? In that case, I'll have the cook keelhauled!"_

Then, however, his thoughts took another turn. Was it possible?

Tywin got up and fetched the healer. When the man finished his examination, he rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Since I work on this ship, I'm more competent about a man's physique, my lord. But if I'm not sorely mistaken... your bride is about to give you the greatest possible wedding gift - if you get my meaning."

Tywin closed his eyes, and his heart started to pump away like mad in his ribcage.

Then, he turned to his young wife and spoke, "It looks as if you'll get another chance to put the wooden lions to a good cause."


	18. Last episode at sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much sweetness can you deal with? 'Cause this will be sweeter than lemon cakes.

Tywin thought that at his age there was little left that could truly surprise - and even less unhinge - him. The healer's news, however, left him in a state he could barely describe. In his youth, he had taken offspring for granted. He had taken a wife for granted. It had been both his right and his duty to ensure the family legacy. When his life had been shattered, he had died on the inside, and all his talk of the Lannister legacy had been empty rambling. A placeholder for the things he had lost. That was what Tywin could see now.

 

To be sure, Amaera had her own issues to deal with. Tywin still hoped she'd be ready to call herself "Sansa" again one day, but for the time being, there were other aspects that came to the forefront of his mind. As complicated as her personality situation was - her feelings for him and for the baby were nothing but simple happiness and thrilled expectation. For instance, Amaera constantly sought out his presence, she was beaming at him whenever she wasn't sick, and she kept touching him at all times, even in front of the ship's crew. Under different circumstances, Tywin would have felt suffocated by all this closeness, and it would have made him aggressive. Strangely enough though, he sensed no such tendencies around his young wife. How was that even possible?

 

Another point was that Tywin took it upon himself to teach her the basics of reading and writing. It astonished him when Amaera grasped the concept of letters representing certain sounds at once. She only needed a few hours to learn the alphabet and repeated the letters like an enthusiastic toddler who'd do a task over and over again until well after having mastered it. Two days later, she was already able to recognise their names and the first couple of simple words, and she even tried to write her first letters.

Tywin had hoped Amaera to be intelligent, but it was a surprising pleasure to watch her deal with this completely new context so well. The only problem was that it all had to be in Valyrian. Whenever Amaera was awake, her mind blocked off the common tongue, no matter how hard she tried to change it. Her tongue refused to pronounce the words, and it looked as if she couldn't remember anything that went beyond names. It left her with frustrated tears pooling in her eyes and Tywin had a hard time not to show his own frustration, impatient man that he was.

What made things a bit easier for him to endure her problems was that his wife turned into a chatterbox at night: she talked in her sleep - and she did use the common tongue all the time when her consciousness was gone. At first, she sounded a lot like the little child she had been when she had left Westeros. Her accent was even a Northern one. In time, however, she came to use words and phrases she picked up from the sailors around her. Tywin didn't like her using nautic language in combination with the crew's rough, even vulgar expressions, but how could he complain about it? At least there was _some_ sort of progress.

 

In the meantime, the climate changed from the exotic Pentoshi heat to the drier hot winds of Dorne. Slowly, they were approaching home. Of course, they needed some fresh water first. Fortunately, they didn't need to expect any Dornish aspirations of taking revenge these days. Sure, there was still no friendship lost between the West and Dorne, but after this long winter, the South had to deal with so many refugees from every part of Westeros that the Martells were glad about anyone's effort to bring back life to the Northern regions. And Tywin's provision ships represented this kind of effort.

So Tywin and Amaera stood side by side at the railing one day when they saw the Dornish coastline for the first time, and they both felt nothing but relief. There had been some bad weather and some harsh winds during their voyage, but no bad storms. A unique stroke of luck.

 

At night, they retired to their makeshift compartment like always. Amaera snuggled up against him as if Tywin were the most snuggleworthy person and dozed off within minutes. She was always tired these days, likely due to the early phase of her pregnancy. Anyway. Where other people turned tail and ran for the hills when it came to facing Tywin Lannister all she wanted to do was to be close to him.

Tywin trailed with his nosetip through her auburn tresses.

"What a happy person you are," he murmured into her ear, using the common tongue.

In response to this, he rather felt than saw his wife smile against his cheek.

Without waking up, she murmurmed back, "Because I love you."

Tywin stiffened. It was in that very moment that he realised he gave a damn about his family legacy - he didn't want a boy, he wanted a girl who'd be like Amaera. A little Sansa. He also realised he'd rather give up his wealth, his name, his influence, his very life even than her.

And _drat_ , why were his cheeks suddenly so wet when it wasn't raining?


	19. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've all been waiting for this to happen, haven't we?

"Ooooh!" Amaera exclaimed, eyes wide. "This is SO beautiful! And THIS is where you live?"

Tywin was standing behind her, his arms around her still slender waist. He'd given her some warmer clothes befitting the new Lady of Lannister... as well as a golden sigil necklace with a lion pendant and a ruby eye. Westerosi dresses looked good on his wife, though it had to be said that likely any kind of garb would have suited her well.

"Yes," he said and couldn't keep a hint of smugness out of his voice. "See, this is Lannisport, and this fortress on the hill overlooking it is Casterly Rock. Breathtaking - and suitable for House Lannister." At that moment, there was a booming salute with cannons to be heard. "Aaah, and we've been discovered. My brother Kevan will be welcoming us at the harbour."

 

Amaera turned around in Tywin's arms and pressed her face against his chest, her face suddenly tense.

"Everyone will be so shocked to see me. Everyone will find me lacking."

Tywin lifted her chin with a finger. His voice was stern when he spoke.

"Oh, there will be shockwaves across Westeros, but Westerosi citizens would expect no less from me. I've got a certain record of unexpected moves. Unexpected, but efficient. Successful. My subjects will accept you, rest assured. There's your true heritage, there's my influence, and there's your natural charms. And if there's anyone who speaks up against you, I'll have him or her punished."

Amaera sighed against his chest, still dubious, but there was at least a spark of hope in her eyes now.

 

After a moment, she turned around again and took in the emerging details of the city and the fortress. She pointed here and there and asked questions. Tywin was ready to tell her more about his home. He was always proud on returning to his impressive family seat, and it improved his mood to witness his wife's genuine interest in Lannisport and Casterly Rock.

 

Soon enough, their little armada with provisions reached the harbour. The septs in town were tolling and annoucing the good news of the lord's happy return. Masses of people were milling around on the docks. For the time being, they were still looking like ants, but they were growing quickly. It looked as if everyone wanted to know if the Warden of the West had been successful. If he'd bring them relief after the severe, long winter. If there would be food. Tywin was looking forward to being able to lift the spirit of his subjects, even if he wasn't overly interested in the individuals. They were rabble after all - however, hopeful people were a good basis for future economical success.

 

After a while, his ship got so close to the docks that Tywin's sharp eyes were able to discern the forms of his brother Kevan and his goodsister Dorna. Surely, his brother's wife had been praying a lot for a successful voyage to Pentos - not because she was so very fond of Tywin, but because she supported everything Kevan supported. It suddenly occurred to Tywin that Amaera was similar in that respect. The women would surely get along well enough. Under Dorna's gentle tutelage, Amaera would thrive and learn quickly what she still needed to know, of that Tywin was convinced.

 

What was most interesting to behold was when Tywin placed a hand on his young wife's shoulder, and Kevan's face contorted in confusion. Amaera went as taut as a bowstring, but she did hold herself very erect. Commendable. Then again, Tywin had expected no less. Even if she had left the Seven Kingdoms as a toddler, she was still a Stark and at least partly a Tully. She had the right blood, even if she couldn't embrace her personal history and identity yet. Time and determination on his part would solve this problem, of that Tywin was convinced.

 

Finally, the sailors lowered the gangway. Tywin took Amaera's arm, and together, they proceeded to the docks. By then, it looked as if Kevan was having a hard time to keep his eyes in his sockets, and Dorna was looking owlish, too.

"Brother!" Kevan called. "You're back, safe and sound. Welcome!"

Tywin allowed himself a curt nod and stopped right there on the gangway, because he was still high enough above the people around to make an announcement. Unlike other men, he didn't have a booming bass voice, but it was sharp and carried far enough for everyone to hear.

"Citizens of Lannisport! Citizens of the West! Thank you for welcoming these ships back. Thank you for welcoming your High Lord and Warden of the West back. I know you have been waiting and hoping for this undertaking to become a success. And it is! These ships carry the necessary provisions from Pentos to restart our lives after the long winter. And I am proud to announce they carry another precious gem, a gem the Seven Kingdoms had thought lost forever, but which I have been able to retrieve and to recover. Let me introduce the new Lady of the Rock. Let me introduce my bride - Amaera Lannister, born under the name of Sansa Stark."

 

Tywin felt his wife blush crimson at his side when he lifted her hand with his own one. For an instant, the people were gaping in shocked silence, but the moment passed quickly - his subjects knew well enough how to behave around the Warden of the West. In no time, the docks were resounding with hurrahs and wild clapping and enthusiastic stomping.

Tywin glanced over at his brother. Kevan positively looked as if he'd never be able to close his mouth again.

So Tywin snapped at him, "Probably it's still a little early this season, but if you wait any longer, you may still catch a fly with that gaping opening."


	20. Insecurity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Tywin rediscovering his asshole mode.

Later that day, Tywin was sitting in his solar while his wife was getting a bath and some much-needed relaxation after the voyage. He thought his ears were still ringing from the sermon Kevan had lavished upon him. His brother was full of doubts. Had expressed worries about Tywin being wrong about Amaera's - Sansa's - identity. Questions whether the young Lady Lannister wasn't an impostor. Whether Tywin wasn't turning into a younger version of their father Tytos by being together with such a young woman.

And then Kevan's face when Tywin had declared his bride was carrying his child. His heir likely. After that, Tywin had been mildly surprised when Kevan's eyeballs had remained in their sockets. It certainly hadn't looked as if they would.

And Tywin had become angry. He wasn't Tytos Lannister. He'd never lift a whore into an elevated position. So the course of his dispute with his brother had gone downhill. Something Tywin wasn't used to when it came to his brother, who usually adored him.

 _"He's shocked and will accept the new situation soon enough,"_ Tywin assumed, still growling in annoyment. If there was one thing he didn't need, it was an... unenthusiastic brother. _"And if he's like this - what will Genna say?"_

Musing about his energetic and opinionated sister caused Tywin's mood to deteriorate further. In contrast to that, his duty at hand was an easy one, though generally speaking it wasn't. Tywin twirled a quill between his fingers and looked at the message he was writing for the Starks. It was better to write them directly, hopefully before they learned the news from anyone else. Thus, the raven with the message bound for Winterfell had to take off within the hour.

 

When he had written and sent his letter, Tywin stood up from behind his desk, clasped his hands on his back, and looked out the window. He realised he needed to enter the Lannister gallery - the place where the family paintings were. There was one big, empty spot. It was the place where there had been a family painting with Joanna and the twins.

There was no helping it: Tywin directed his feet to the gallery. Bile rose in his stomach.

_"Joanna! Oh Joanna! What have I been doing? Have I been forgetting you? Have I desecrated your memory?"_

Tywin wandered up and down the gallery as if he meant to walk a hole into the carpet and didn't even notice he was moving. Was he wrong? Were his recent decisions a folly? Had he lost his mind? WAS he turning into a second Tytos Lannister? No, but that was utter rubbish, wasn't it?

 

Tywin walked on to the Lord's suite where he found Amaera brushing her hair in front of the mirror he had imported. She beamed at him, but the smile on her lips died the next instant.

"What is it, my lord?" she asked.

Tywin stiffened.

"Don't wait for me tonight," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I've been gone for weeks. My desk is full with important scrolls. Matters I have to deal with at once."

"Oh. I see," Amaera murmured. "Yes, I understand. A lord's duties. Good night then."

Tywin nodded curtly and felt something uncharacteristic. It took him a moment to understand he was feeling like an ass. It was a sentiment he didn't appreciate at all - especially since he wasn't used to it. Surely, his wife would cry as soon as he left the room.

A new wave of annoyment washed over him. He swung around and left. When he reached his solar again, he was fuming. He noticed an empty inkwell on his desk. Solid metal. Tywin grasped it and hurled it into the cold ashes of the fireplace. Next, he threw himself into his chair and attempted to burn the papers on the desk with his eyes. Yes, this would be a long night. A very long night.


	21. Couple at the Rock

Around the hour of the wolf, Tywin rubbed his burning eyes. At least he hadn't lied to his wife: there WERE tons of papers that demanded his attention after his absence. There was even a letter penned by Lord Stark himself - a simple exchange about some craftsmen Tywin had sent North to the Wall - skilled men, but also freethinkers Tywin didn't want to have in the West. Tywin briefly thought of the seeds he had sent North the day before. Those were far more valuable in spring than the craftsmen, or so he thought. A pricy gift from Pentos, but considering the new northbound connections via Amaera - Sansa - it was hopefully a good investment. Tywin had already a trading option in mind that included Northern wood sold to Braavos, shipped via Lannisport, and the extra money could be invested in more provisions for the next winter. Or some other useful projects before that.

Yawning, Tywin nodded to himself and called it a day... or rather a night. He was so tired he only wanted to sleep and didn't care about anything else anymore.

 

The candles and the fire in his bedroom had nearly burned down, the light was faint at best. Without a second glance, Tywin stripped down to his smallclothes and slipped between the warming curtains of the four-poster bed and on between the sheets. Five heartbeats later, a warm, sleeping body rolled over and curled around him before he could even think twice. Amaera's scent engulfed him, and Tywin was lost. He wrapped his arms around his wife, and when he heard her utter a drowsy sigh of relief he called himself an oaf for having wasted the evening without his wife.

 _"I allowed other people's doubts to influence me,"_ he thought, getting furious and holding his wife even closer. _"Nobody ever got between me and Joanna. Not even Aerys. Nobody will get between me and Amaera either!"_

"Mmmhhh," his wife uttered, and Tywin comed with his fingers through her tresses. Then, he allowed himself to fall asleep.

 

In the morning, he and Amaera woke up when Tywin's servant opened the heavy, red velvet curtains of the four-poster bed.

Tywin continued to hold his wife, and he said in a comparatively warm tone, "Good morning. Did you sleep well? What do you think - shall I show you around today? I made good progress last night and can spend some time with you now."

What he didn't mention aloud was how important it was to be seen together at the Rock. Amaera needed to get a good position at his side and beyond.

On hearing the offer, her eyes started to sparkle with joy, and Tywin realised he had done something right.

"Of course!" Amaera exclaimed. "Nothing would make me happier!"

Tywin nodded.

"We also need to organise some kind of training for you. Lessons of sorts. I'm spending much of my time in my solar, so you should get a place for yourself there, too."

Amaera blushed.

"I'll be able to read and write adequately soon. I'll make you proud."

Tywin uttered a short, dry chuckle.

"That's the spirit! Only personally, I'm already proud enough a person as it is."

Amaera's reddish complexion intensified, and she cast down her eyes.

Tywin uttered another chuckle.

 

After that, things were easy for him, and pretty enjoyable, too. He had probably never seen his home with such in-depth perception. His wife looked at every ornament with big eyes, she marveled at the tapestries, the carpets, the colours, and whenever they reached a window, she appreciated the landscape outside with ooohs and aaaahs like a child. Tywin did feel even prouder of his family seat then than he'd done before.

 

At some point, Kevan and Dorna turned up.

"We're just returning from morning mass," Dorna pointed out in surprisingly good Valyrian. "Do you keep any gods, Lady Lannister? Do you believe in the Seven?"

It was an important question for a pious woman like her.

Sansa shrugged.

"I've prayed to te Hooded Wayfarer a few times, but with the way I lived in Essos I had little time to ponder religion. Still, I'm glad for anyone who finds consolation in his or her faith."

Tywin could see Dorna's slight disappointed that quickly gave way to a look of determination. Obviously, his goodsister was keen on conveying her own beliefs. As it was, Tywin was content enough since he himself was a man of the world and cared little for the Seven.

 

The quartet walked on some more, passing curious castle inhabitants as they went, and Kevan asked Amaera about her life in Pentos. He paled at the account, and even more so when Tywin added the details they had found out about how Amaera had come to Essos.

Afterwards, one could see he was moved and more willing to accept her identity. At the same time, the tension in Kevan's shoulders revealed he was still considering all the problems that stemmed from hers and Tywin's situation.

Thus, his smile was strained when he said, "Oh, and Ty has told me of the state you're in. My congratulations. The heavens know we could do with an heir for the Rock. My Dorna has had several children, and she'll support you in every possible way."

 

Tywin was glad about the offer. It meant that slowly his brother was getting used to the new family constellation.

Amaera showed her gratitude and beamed at her new relatives, but Tywin realised she was still guarded underneath that layer of happiness and politeness. His wife had experienced and seen too much in her young life to take every word at face value. Tywin briefly wondered if it would have been the same way had she grown up in the sheltered surroundings of Winterfell.

However, there was no way to know this, so Tywin shrugged inwardly and set out to meet Maester Emron. The recently-appointed jug-eared and pockmarked healer was a competent man, as far as Tywin could tell, and supposed to give his wife lessons. As it turned out, the two seemed to get along well enough right from the beginning, so this was another point off his list.

 

He turned to Kevan.

"I didn't celebrate our return last night. See to it that there are some festivities tonight."

His brother gave him a long look.

"All right, Ty. I'll better go then to get things organised," he simply said, turned, and took his leave, his wife on his arm.

Tywin looked after them.

 _"It'll take a while, but things will fall into place,"_ he thought. And then, he realised that for a critical man he was astoundingly optimistic. His wife was changing him, step by step, and despite his age. Stranger still, Tywin wasn't even angry about it.


	22. What he deems adequate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is not exactly catchy, but here we go.
> 
> Warning: Reference to violence in this chapter.

The banquet in the evening catered to Tywin's taste for elegance: not too much, but high quality food and a quartet playing music. The best golden plates and goblets were being used, too, and there was a fine tablecloth in Lannister red embroidered with lions.

Amaera was at his side and obviously happy there was no dancing - she had never learned how to dance, at least not in a courtly way, of that Tywin was convinced. Besides, she was feeling a bit queasy because of her pregnancy. Thus, Tywin was relieved his young wife wasn't keen on hopping around in a wild manner. And while he himself was fully capable of dancing he wasn't avid when it came to music.

So all in all, the banquet went according to Tywin's wishes - which was no surprise, given how Kevan knew his taste and had prepared everything accordingly. His brother was at Tywin's side and still a bit reserved, but they did converse about the latest developments in Tywin's absence. On his other side, Amaera got a first chance at getting to know some of the local noblemen. Kevan had made sure there was a Lann from town next to her, because the man could speak Valyrian so well. Moreover, the man was fond of talking, so Amaera didn't have to lead the conversation herself and could focus on listening and learning.

 

When the feast was over, Tywin and his wife returned to their bedroom, and Tywin showed her how to kneel on all fours so he himself could kneel behind her. His aging knees weren't too happy with this position, but he thought it worth a try. He remembered from his time with Joanna that this position was possible for a woman with a swelling belly. Granted, the pregnancy didn't show yet, but now was the time to practise the possible variants while Amaera was still mobile.

 

The next morning, Tywin felt the need to do some training. At the Rock, he kept a strict plan for exercises; after all, he had to remain fit... and not only for his wife, but also in case his presence was needed in a military campaign. This was always a possibility in Westeros, and the fights with the undead menace during the winter had taught him once again that weakness could easily equal death sentence.

So Tywin turned up at the training yard. He was earlier than usual. It was likely the fact that people were expecting him to be at his desk that allowed him to overhear something that caused his blood to boil.

A young hedge knight named Ser Pierce Orstinon was standing with his back to him and talking to a man named Ser Dyron Lannet.

"Really, that woman! As if she'd be the long-lost Stark wench. Pffft! I mean - she can't even speak our language. Nor is she using the right name. I tell you, the old lion, he's just installing some Essosi whore so he can legitimise his bastard if you ask me."

Ser Dyron had seen Tywin approach them and was paling visibly... and wise enough not to try to stop Ser Pierce's words.

 

Tywin squinted, cocked his head, and spat, "Nobody is asking you for your insolent and incorrect thoughts."

The young knight spun around, grasped the incredible extent of his fault, and went to his knees. His eyes were wide and glassy within a moment.

"My lord! Forgive me, please! I didn't think about my words. I... I've made a stupid mistake. Surely you know what you're doing."

Tywin just lifted an eyebrow.

"Indeed. I know what I'm doing. And I can't tolerate a man in my midst who is prone to spreading lies. Lies that could undermine my wife's or my own authority. - Guards! Apprehend him. Make sure he won't be able to say such things again. This should be easiest if he doesn't have a tongue anymore. And make him leave Casterly Rock."

Ser Pierce's complexion became ashen. He bleated for mercy like a cow. It only served Tywin to feel more determined to not allow the man to go on bleating. Tywin turned his back on the scene with the hedge knight and the guards dragging him away. Instead, he put on his armour and started with his exercises, knowing full well his men would carry out his orders swiftly and competently.

 _"No-one will dare to question my wife in public now,"_ he thought, nodding to himself.

It was of utmost priority their positions and their power weren't questioned.

 

Later, he met Kevan again.

"I've heard of a certain incident," his brother said.

Tywin shrugged.

"I did what was necessary."

Kevan cocked his head and shot him a lopsided grin.

"I know. You always do."


	23. Waiting for the family

After the incident with the knight, Amaera was depressed when she heard of it. It frustrated Tywin no end, but he had to admit that a slave's life with countless punishments on the receiving end had to make you a tad overly sensitive when it came to punishing others. Still. Amaera turning her face away from him with sad eyes was something he had no use of.

"This was necessary. I can't allow any kind of behaviour that undermines our authority - and let me tell you: words can be more harmful than a cut with a sword."

To no avail. His wife felt what she felt and there was no helping it. Tywin hissed in annoyment, threw up his hands, and the two of them didn't speak for two days.

 

During this time, the maester told him that his wife was learning fast and making good progress - with one exception. She was still completely blocked when it came to learning or using the common tongue.

Tywin breathed in and out, or he would have uttered a curse.

"It doesn't help if I lose control," he admonished himself.

 

Then came the ravens. Dark wings, dark words.

The first one was from the Twins. His sister Genna, who had passed the winter at her husband's abode, was returning to Casterly Rock. Having read the message, Tywin allowed to close his eyes for a moment. Next, he squared his shoulders and turned to the second letter.

 

_"To Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West,_

_We have learned of the new developments. The hearts of the Stark family are in turmoil. Expect us at Casterly Rock in a few weeks hence._

_Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North."_

 

Tywin nodded to himself. Yes, this was what he had been expecting all along.

 _"Until then, we have to prepare ourselves for the wolf brood to flood the Rock,"_ he thought. _"Amaera will be terrified, but the encounter will be both necessary and helpful."_

For example, Amaera needed more new dresses befitting a Lady Lannister. A pregnant Lady Lannister. So far, she had sewn a dress herself, having been provided with the finest fabrics in gold and red. Tywin had also brought along two dresses from Pentos. His personal tailor at the Rock was doing his best to come up with more clothes, and seamstresses from Lannisport were working for him, too. Yet, one had to concede that they were starting at point zero, so there was still so much more to do.

At least Kevan would do his best to prepare everything for the Starks, such as planning a welcome feast, having guest suites made ready, menus for the days to come and so on and so forth. Lady Dorna would help Sansa with chosing the right decoration. And probably Genna would bombard everyone with her own ideas and demands until then and blast everything to pieces.

 _"And I'll have to assess the economical opportunities of this meeting with Lord Stark,"_ Tywin thought.

Under the best circumstances, this could turno out to be a prosperous and profitable encounter.

 

Amaera turned pallid as soon as she heard of her family being on the way to Casterly Rock. Tywin told her that it had to be expected the Starks would react like this. Amaera - Sansa - nodded but didn't calm down. From then on, she was like a panicking chicken: running around in circles and not being able to focus, or to think clearly. Tywin's only idea to help her relax was to fuck her properly until she was completely exhausted. That way, they got at least something out of this stressful time...


	24. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you've waited for this moment, and here it is! I'm sorry, but my baby is having some problems right now, so I've got no time to control the chapter as usual...

Weeks went by, and Amaera's belly was beginning to swell with their unborn child. Fortunately, Kevan was as active as castellan as always, so Amaera could focus on her situation at the Rock. She was still unable to overcome her problems with the Common Tongue, but otherwise, she was learning fast. It made Tywin proud to see he had chosen his wife well. The way she won other people's hearts with her friendly ways was a mystery to him, but he accepted the fact as a given. It was interesting to see what it was like to have a Lannister in their midst the people truly seemed to like. This was something new.

Amaera's pregnancy proceeded with remarkably few problems, compared to what he'd known with Joanna. Still, his heartbeat accelerated each time he thought of labour and birth and screams and the baby. Aemaera seemed to be more relaxed about it - perhaps it was because of her young age. Her fears lay elsewhere.

 

Then came the day the party from the North and from the Riverlands arrived together. Tywin could see Genna wear Lannister red even from afar. There never was a chance to overlook his sister.

The party rode into court, and both Tywin and Amaera were standing there, stiff and controlled. Again, it showed that his wife was of good breed by the way she concealed the turmoil that had to be going on inside of her.

When Tywin saw a white-haired, wrinkled man with haunched shoulders atop a destrier it took him a while to realise this was Lord Eddard Stark.

 _"Why, he looks older than me!"_ Tywin mused and agreed with the rumours he had heard about the Warden of the North aging before his time because of the loss of his daughter.

However, the man swung himself off the horse's back with considerable energy and didn't care about protocol, running towards them in big strides. At this point, Tywin also noticed Catelyn Stark coming to a halt on her horse, and she was grey-haired and wrinkled, too. Her former beauty gone after years of sorrow.

 

"Sansa! My child!" Lord Eddard exclaimed, still in the process of hastening towards them.

At this moment, Tywin's wife tightened even more. Then, she held up a hand as if to fend off her progenitor.

"Do stop!" she uttered in Valyrian, in a tone that portrayed she was turning from a shy slave into a lady.

Indeed, Lord Stark stopped dead in his tracks, blinked, and furrowed his brow.

Before he could say samething, Tywin's wife pointed out, "My name is Amaera Lannister. Whoever I was or wasn't in the past - Amaera Lannister, this is who I am now."

Lord Stark blinked again, and Tywin felt it was time to greet his guest from the North. So he started to speak... but before he could get much further, Amaera turned more and more pallid and collapsed at his side.

 

Never before had Tywin been so fast to shoot protocol into the void. Within a second, he scooped up his wife and carried her in, leaving it to Kevan to continue the welcome procedure. He left quite a hubbub behind, but his mind was elsewhere.

Minutes later, Amaera was on her bed and slowly coming back to herself. Tywin was still at her side.

"I'm sorry for my weakness," she quacked.

Tywin snorted.

"Perfect timing if you ask me. I am not keen on spending too much time with these people - and this way, Lord Stark could at least see what a caring husband I am."

At this point, Amaera looked at him and smiled weakly.

"Yes, you are a caring husband. The best one I could wish for."

These words caused Tywin to feel strangely lightheaded. He patted Amaera's wrist awkwardly.

"Perhaps it'll be better to keep away from the visitors for the rest of the day," he offered.

Amaera shook her head.

"I can't evade them for so long. And you know it."

Of course, she was right about it, although Tywin would have wanted the maester to say something against it.

 

An hour later, Amaera sat down in a chair in Tywin's solar and readied herself to welcome her parents in a more private atmosphere, so as not to create another scandal.

Lord and Lady Stark entered, wife with longing impatience and caution after the initial incident.

"Daughter! You look exactly like your mother!" Lord Stark still exclaimed and made an advance into Amaera's direction.

Again, Amaera held up her hand.

"Please!" she spoke with strained vehemence, of course again in Valyrian. "I can't remember you. You are foreigners for me. I've only ever known Essos as my home. Please let us behave like civilised people."

 

Tywin saw Lord and Lady Stark's shocked faces. He had instructed Kevan to tell the Starks of Amaera's predisposition, but they still hadn't been ready to accept her hesitation, apparently. And Lord Stark clearly wasn't able to address her in the desired way.

"Sansa!" he exclaimed. "But you ARE our daughter, it's as clear as a summer sky. One only has to look at you. Oh, and how we've waited for you! How we've prayed to the old gods and the new you may have survived and come back to us!"

Amaera inclined her head.

"Why - you didn't come to Essos. You'd have found me there."

It was a verbal slap in Lord and Lady Stark's face and Tywin was impressed enough to almost flinch alongside with his guests.

He spoke up, trying his hand at diplomacy.

"Now - we're in a delicate situation, so we should all allow ourselves some time to let things fall into place."

 

Lord Stark's haunched shoulders sagged some more.

"As you wish, Lord and LADY LANNISTER."

Lady Catelyn had been silent so far. Her complexion was pallid, her demeanour stiff.

Now, she said, "We've brought you a present, SANSA. A living present, by the way. We're better leaving you to your own devices now, but... maybe, you want to at least accept the gift and look at it in the courtyard on your own."

Of course, Tywin's interes was piqued. A horse? Mhhh, weird.

 

The Starks left with immoevable faces, and Tywin said to his wife, "In that case, we should take a little stroll. I'm not ready to face my sister yet. Let's have a look at your present."

Amaera gave a curt nod and stood up.

 

Together, they headed for the courtyard and suddenly heard a howling sound. Tywin blinked.

There was a stony post with an iron ring at the end of the courtyard - and a grey, furry animal was fastened there Tywin had never expected to see.

"Direwolf!" he breathed.

Amaera's eyes widened, her mouth opened. The next moment, she exclaimed, "So beautiful!"

There was no fear about the big beast in her voice.

It took Tywin a moment to realise something unbelievable: his wife had just spoken in the Common Tongue.


End file.
